#Flicker Dev | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yukkiji · 6 days ago

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soft reset

when your boyfriend kenma starts burning out from the pressure of developing his new game, you decide to help him unwind—in your own intimate way—even if it means slipping under his desk while he's live on stream.

haikyuu masterlist. leave a little stardust on my ko-fi

starring. kozume kenma x fem!reader

genre: fluff, romance, smut, timeskip!kenma

wc: 6.8k

warning: 18+ mdni., smut. nsfw. unprotected sex. cunnilingus. oral sex (receiving and giving), praise kink, softdom!kenma, established relationship, domestic setting, multiple orgasms, spanking

life with kenma is quiet, but never boring.

you live together in a cozy house just outside the city—a place that still smells faintly of new paint and the sage candle you always forget to blow out. the air inside is always warm, like a weighted blanket, buzzing gently with the soft hum of kenma’s pc behind his office door. a hoodie of his is usually hanging over a chair. a half-empty boba cup sits on a coaster with some game dev scribbles tucked underneath. takeout boxes come and go like visitors.

the two of you have routines. but they’re soft around the edges. comfortable. familiar. easy.

kenma is currently neck-deep in his new game. that means longer hours at his desk, occasional grunts of frustration, and a more muted tone than usual, even when he's lying beside you at night, staring at the ceiling with tired golden eyes.

you know he won't ask for help—not out loud. but he’s been letting you test his builds lately, and that’s as much of an invitation as you’re going to get.

so, you start leaving sticky notes.

little ones. bright neon colors in your handwriting, dotting the edges of his monitor, nestled between his controller stands, sometimes slipped into the folds of his hoodie sleeves.

“your dialogue coding is getting better. that one npc made me snort my tea.”

“new soundtrack = chef’s kiss.”

“i’m not saying i’d die for this side quest, but i’m not not saying it.”

“this game’s so good it’s criminal.”

and the one you left last night, placed just under his mouse pad:

“if this game gets any hotter, i might need a cooldown in your lap.”

you honestly didn’t expect a reaction. kenma has always been unreadable when he wants to be. sometimes he blushes when you flirt; sometimes he just blinks like you’ve asked him to solve a riddle in an alien language.

but today…

today feels different.

it starts when you pad quietly into his gaming room, the soft plush of your socks muffling each step against the hardwood floor. his camera’s on—you can see the tiny green led above his monitor, the live preview window tucked in the corner of the screen showing his face in soft lighting, blurred slightly by the filter he uses to keep things pretty and distant.

he’s been streaming for over two hours. his posture is wrong for the game he’s playing—something peaceful, a cozy farming sim—but his shoulders are locked tight, his jaw set. he moves with precision, with rhythm, but no ease. his voice, smooth and low, dances easily enough through chat interaction, but you know the tone beneath it. it’s the one he gets when he’s on autopilot. pushing through. running on fumes.

you slowly kneeled in front of him, careful to stay just out of frame. the glow of the monitor painted soft light across your face, flickering gently as the game carried on without you.

"baby… what are you doing?" kenma mouthed the words more than he spoke them, barely moving his lips, careful not to let his mic catch anything. his eyes flicked from the screen to you, then quickly back again, as if looking too long might give him away.

you didn’t answer—just tilted your head slightly, giving him that innocent look he knew far too well. the kind that meant you weren’t planning on being innocent for long.

your fingers found the waistband of his sweatpants, thumbs sliding under the soft fabric. his breath caught. and then, slowly, deliberately, you began to undo the drawstrings.

he froze.

it was subtle—just a tiny shift in his posture, a barely-there twitch in his jaw, but you saw it. felt it. the effort it took for him not to react.

he knew exactly what you were doing.

and you knew exactly how long it would take before he cracked.

his voice returned, quieter now, strained in that barely-audible way that told you he was trying to stay composed, for the sake of the stream. "you’re serious?"

you looked up at him through your lashes, lips curving just slightly. then you eased the sweatpants down a little further.

his hand hovered near the mic toggle. his other gripped the edge of the desk. every inch of him was still as his eyes flicked once to the small camera light—still on.

still live.

and you were still kneeling.

a single muscle jumped in his jaw. his voice, when it came again, was barely more than breath.

“…you’re gonna get me killed.”

but he didn’t stop you.

not even close.

“don’t mind me, babe. just keep doing your thing,” you murmured, voice low and syrup-sweet as your hand curled around him.

he was already half-hard, the heat of him pulsing against your palm before you’d even started moving. the weight, the way his breath hitched the second your fingers tightened just slightly—it made you smile.

kenma’s jaw clenched. he adjusted slightly in his chair, posture stiff, trying to maintain some illusion of composure for the camera still trained on him. his hand hadn’t left the mouse, but his movements were no longer precise. the clicks were slower, more hesitant.

you dragged your hand down the length of him, then back up in a steady stroke, just enough to make his thighs twitch beneath you.

kenma went back to his stream, while you were still stroking him. an awkwardness in his tone is slightly masked by forced calm, but you can hear the subtle waver underneath whenever he answers. his sentences come slower, his usual ease fractured by the way your fingers keep working him—slow, deliberate, mercilessly patient.

he jolts—just slightly—when your mouth wraps around him without warning, his thighs tensing beneath your touch. a sharp, almost imperceptible inhale hitches in his chest, caught just behind his mic. he covers it with a fake cough, hand flying to the mute button for a beat too long.

his knuckles go white on the armrest as you sink lower, tongue dragging slow and warm along the underside of him.

you feel his hips twitch, his composure slipping one thin layer at a time.

still muted, he glances down at you, eyes wide and dark. his voice, when he unmutes, is pitched lower—slightly breathless, just shy of unsteady.

“yeah… no, i’m good,” he says to chat, smiling faintly at his screen. “just got distracted.”

you hum around him in answer. he stiffens.

the sound you make—low, deliberate—sends a shiver down his spine, and kenma’s hips twitch in response. his hand drifts from the mouse to clutch the edge of the desk, fingers curling tight like he needs something to anchor him, to keep him from slipping completely.

you love the way he feels—how he fits, how he reacts. whether he's buried in your mouth or pressed deep inside you, it's the same electrifying heat that spreads low and slow in your core. just the taste of him, the weight of him, has your body aching with want.

without even thinking, you shift in place, your hips instinctively pressing down against nothing, chasing friction. you're getting wet—need pooling and pulsing as the tension climbs. it's maddening, being this close to him and not filled.

kenma’s breathing has gone uneven, jaw tight, and his eyes are locked straight ahead—focused on the screen but seeing none of it. you start to move in a rhythm now, deliberate and steady, each glide of your mouth carefully controlled, paced with purpose.

he’s trembling under the surface, the kind of restraint that looks calm to everyone else but you. you can feel it—how close he is, how he’s trying to hold himself together for just another second.

but he won’t last long.

one of his hands slips off the keyboard, hovering for a moment before it finds your hair. his fingers thread through it slowly, almost reverently, as if grounding himself in the feel of you. the stream rolls on—his voice tight and frayed around the edges—but everything else has narrowed down to this: the warmth of your mouth, the steady rhythm, the helpless tension building in his gut.

you hum around him, a soft sound of encouragement, and the vibration shoots up his spine. his grip in your hair tightens involuntarily—not harsh, but needy. his thighs shift beneath you, restless.

he tries to speak, something about the game, maybe even a reply to chat, but it stutters on his tongue and fades out. his control is thinning, unraveling with each second you stay wrapped around him.

and you—completely in control, completely calm—can feel it. the way his breathing's gone shallow, how his hand trembles against your scalp. he’s close. you know it. and you’re not planning to let up.

not until he breaks.

his fingers tremble at the nape of your neck. he’s trying—genuinely trying—to keep his voice level, to play it off like everything’s fine. but the words on stream have started to taper off. a long pause. then another. his hand, still buried in your hair, gives a telling tug.

“mm… guys, i think i’m gonna… cut it here.”

he clears his throat, swallowing thickly, like he’s trying to shake the edge from his voice. “sorry. my head’s… kinda killing me all of a sudden. think i’m coming down with something.”

his chat floods with concern. hearts. quick wishes to rest. he mutters a soft thank you, already moving to shut everything down—mic muted, camera off. the second the screen fades to black, his whole body slumps back into the chair with a sharp, quiet exhale.

“you’re evil,” he breathes, looking down at you with glassy eyes, skin flushed. his voice is low now—just for you. a hoarse mix of disbelief and want. “you know that, right?”

you glance up at him through your lashes, your hand still wrapped around him, moving with slow, deliberate strokes. the corners of your mouth curve in a teasing smile.

“why’d you end the stream?” you murmur, your voice low, warm with mischief. “i kind of wanted to see you lose it while still on cam.”

kenma lets out a breath that’s half a laugh, half a groan—caught somewhere between amusement and restraint. his hand finds your hair again, fingers threading through gently at first, then tugging with more purpose as his hips shift forward, searching for more of your warmth.

“you’re impossible,” he mutters under his breath, voice thick, a little frayed around the edges.

but he doesn’t ask you to stop.

his head tips back, lips parting in a quiet gasp as the pleasure crests higher. his thighs tense beneath your hands, and his voice drops to a breathy whisper. “i’m close… baby, i’m gonna—”

his hips twitch, and then he’s spilling into your mouth with a quiet, broken moan. you hold him there gently, letting him ride it out, not moving too fast—just letting him feel.

when you pull back, you tilt your head up slightly, mouth still open in teasing defiance. his flushed face darkens even more as his gaze locks onto you, both stunned and aroused.

“swallow for me,” he murmurs, voice low and thick.

you do, slowly, deliberately, and when you’re done, he leans forward without hesitation, pulling you up from the floor. his lips meet yours in a kiss that’s not rushed, but deep and hungry, full of something that feels heavier than just desire.

his hands frame your face, thumbs brushing gently along your cheeks like you’re something he never wants to forget — like memorizing the feeling of you is as important as breathing.

the room feels warmer now, like the hum of his pc and the muted glow from the led lights have become part of the quiet spell between you. his fingers wander lower, slipping beneath the edge of your silk nightgown, slow and searching. when he realizes you’re not wearing anything underneath, he pauses — amber eyes meeting yours, amused and hungry all at once.

“no panties, baby?” he murmurs, voice low and threaded with affection, like he already knows the answer but loves hearing you admit it.

you only smile, your hands slipping under the hem of his hoodie to feel the warmth of his skin. "didn’t think i’d need them."

he huffs a laugh — barely — before leaning in and kissing you again, deeper this time. like he's grounding himself in the taste of you, the smell of your hair, the soft drag of silk against his fingertips.

“you’re trouble,” he whispers against your lips.

“only for you.”

kenma doesn’t say anything right away. he just smiles — that quiet, crooked kind of smile that never quite reaches anyone else but you — and settles you down in his chair, pulling you gently back against his chest. the leather is cool beneath your thighs, but all you feel is the warmth of him, the way his body fits so naturally around yours.

he parts your legs with care, resting each over the wide arms of the chair. the position leaves you open, vulnerable — but never unsafe. not with him. you can feel him against you, firm and unrelenting, pressing right where you’re already aching. a soft, involuntary roll of your hips has you grinding against him for friction.

but kenma’s hand catches your thigh, firm and grounding.

“no teasing, baby,” he murmurs, mouth close to your ear. “you already had your fun.”

you pout, making a small sound of protest, but he only chuckles — that low, lazy laugh that always sends a shiver down your spine. his fingers trail along your thigh, slow and feather-light as he lifts the hem of your nightgown. his breath hitches when he sees you — already wet, already waiting.

“no panties…” he says again, quieter this time. “you knew exactly what you were doing.”

his fingertips trace the inside of your thigh, close enough to tease, not close enough to satisfy. you shift your hips again, just slightly — needy. he smirks against your neck.

“patience,” he says, voice warm but commanding. “i’ll take care of you.”

and with that, his hand slides lower, purposeful now.

his fingers finally find you — warm, slick, and already pulsing with need. he hums quietly against your neck, the sound low and appreciative, almost reverent.

“already this wet for me,” he murmurs, dragging his fingers through the heat of you, slow and deliberate. “just from touching me?”

you nod, breath catching as his fingers circle with maddening precision. his other hand is on your waist, keeping you still against him, even though your hips keep twitching forward on instinct, chasing more.

“kenma,” you whisper, reaching for his wrist.

but he doesn’t let you take control.

“uh-uh,” he breathes against the shell of your ear, pressing a kiss there. “you get to feel, not lead.”

his fingers press in slowly — one first, then another — curling just right. you gasp, arching slightly, your body responding instantly. he watches over your shoulder, eyes dark, jaw tight.

“look at you,” he murmurs, voice threading between fondness and possessiveness. “falling apart already and i’ve barely started.”

you’re trembling now, his fingers working a slow, patient rhythm while he keeps you spread for him, your legs draped over the arms of his chair. he’s everywhere — behind you, inside you, breathing you in like you’re something sacred. the chair creaks quietly beneath you both, the only sound aside from your breath, your whimpers, and the quiet, wet sounds of him loving you.

“i want to hear you,” he says suddenly, his voice quiet but firm. “let me hear how much you want me.”

you can barely manage words — only broken sounds that dissolve into moans when he brushes that one spot inside you just right. your head drops back onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

and he smiles.

“good girl.”

then, without warning, his fingers begin to move faster — deliberate, controlled, but unrelenting. the sudden shift makes your breath hitch, and your body tenses in his lap, the pleasure sharp and overwhelming.

one of your hands flies to his arm, nails digging in for something to anchor yourself with. the other reaches up, guiding his free hand to your chest, needing more of him — everywhere, all at once.

kenma gets the message. his palm slips under the silk fabric, fingers brushing over your breast before squeezing softly, teasing your nipple between his fingers. at the same time, he keeps his pace below, dragging you closer and closer to the edge with maddening precision.

his lips find your neck, pressing kisses that grow slower, deeper — lingering on the sensitive spots that make your toes curl.

“you’re so responsive tonight,” he murmurs, voice thick with heat, his breath fanning over your skin. “you feel everything, don’t you?”

you can’t answer — your mouth is open, but all that escapes are soft gasps and whimpers, your head rolling to the side to give him more access. every nerve feels like it’s on fire, and the coil low in your belly tightens with each stroke of his fingers, each pull of his lips.

he groans low against your throat. “you’re close, aren’t you?”

you nod, a shiver running through you.

“then let go for me,” he whispers, pressing his fingers deeper, right where you need him. “come for me.”

that’s all it takes.

your body tightens around his touch as the pleasure crests — hot, overwhelming — and then it crashes over you in waves. you tremble in his arms, breath catching, fingers digging into his as you fall apart, his name slipping from your lips again and again like a prayer.

kenma holds you through it, still stroking you gently, soothing the aftershocks while murmuring soft praises into your ear.

“just like that,” he breathes. “that’s my girl.”

your legs feel like they're made of air when you try to stand, muscles still trembling from the high. kenma’s arms wrap around your waist in an instant, steadying you. he keeps you close, grounding you.

his fingers, still glistening with your release, lift between you. without breaking eye contact, he brings them to his lips and licks them clean — slow, deliberate, savoring. the heat in his gaze doesn’t waver.

you feel your core clench again at the sight. it’s almost unfair, how effortlessly he can unravel you.

kenma leans in, lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s all tongue and tenderness, low heat simmering between you. when he pulls back, his voice is soft but firm.

“come on,” he says, nudging your nose with his. “let’s take this to the bedroom.”

kenma lifts you up easily, his arms strong and secure beneath your thighs as you instinctively wrap yourself around him. your nightgown falls around your waist, forgotten, as he carries you through the soft-lit hallway, every step purposeful.

his lips press against your shoulder, your collarbone, anywhere he can reach as you cling to him. the steady thump of his heart beneath your chest only makes you more aware of your own racing pulse.

when you reach the bedroom, he lowers you gently onto the bed like you’re something precious. his eyes sweep over you—soft, but hungry.

“you look too good like this,” he murmurs, crawling over you slowly, deliberately. “i don’t think i’ll last long.”

kenma’s lips trail over your skin, soft and deliberate—your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your chest. he doesn’t rush. every kiss feels like he’s memorizing you, savoring the way your body responds beneath him.

he took his time at your chest, his lips wrapping around one nipple, sucking softly while his fingers toyed with the other—gently rolling, massaging, giving each the attention it deserved.

"kenma…" you whined, breath hitching, “stop teasing.”

he only chuckled against your skin, the vibration making you shiver. “but you’re so easy to tease,” he murmured, eyes glinting with mischief as he met your gaze.

his lips moved to your other nipple, lavishing it with the same slow, careful attention. you tangled your fingers in his hair, gripping just enough to make him moan softly against you—the sound vibrating through your chest and straight down your spine.

kenma’s kisses trailed lower, slow and unhurried, like he wanted to memorize every inch of you with his mouth. from your chest, he pressed kisses down your stomach, pausing every now and then to nip lightly at the sensitive skin. you gasped, your fingers still threaded in his hair as his warmth moved further down.

when he finally settled between your thighs, he looked up at you—eyes heavy, lips slightly parted. his hands slid along your hips, holding you gently, as though grounding himself before diving in.

“just relax for me,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

kenma took his time, kissing a slow path down your body, his touch reverent like you were something rare—something he didn’t want to rush. you felt his fingers trail along your thigh before he settled between them, spreading you open with care.

he looked up once, catching your gaze. “let me take care of you,” he said softly, and then he was leaning in, his mouth finding you with practiced ease.

kenma always made it feel like more than just pleasure—like devotion. every stroke of his tongue was deliberate, slow at first, savoring. he groaned quietly as he tasted you, his hands firm on your hips to keep you steady as your legs threatened to tremble.

he was greedy for it—your sounds, your reactions, the way you gripped the sheets and whispered his name like it was the only word you knew. you could feel him hum against you, the vibration deep, coaxing even more out of you.

you arched into him, breath hitching. “kenma—”

he didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down. his mouth moved in perfect rhythm, chasing your release like it was the only thing that mattered.

your fingers tangled in his hair, your hips instinctively moving against his mouth as pleasure surged through you in waves. kenma held you firmly, not letting up, coaxing every last bit of your release with lips and tongue as though he could memorize your taste, your sounds, the way your body responded to him.

your thighs trembled around his shoulders, your chest heaving with every breath. “kenma… i—” your voice broke on the edge of another cry.

he pulled back only when he was sure you’d ridden the high completely, his lips and chin glistening, eyes dark and half-lidded with hunger. he kissed the inside of your thigh before finally looking up at you with a lazy, satisfied smile.

“still with me?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, brushing his knuckles along your thigh as if he wasn’t already driving you wild.

you could barely nod, your body loose and warm. “barely,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and filled with a kind of awe.

kenma crawled up your body, kissing along your skin again, slower now, as if grounding you.

he kissed your lips, soft but insistent, letting you taste yourself on him. “you drive me insane,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours.

then you felt him, hard and ready, pressing against your thigh.

“think you can take a little more?” he asked, eyes locked on yours.

your answer was a breathless nod, your fingers already reaching for him.

kenma peeled off the hoodie he was wearing, the soft fabric sliding off his shoulders. years of volleyball had carved subtle definition into his frame — lean muscle, toned arms, a strength that never flaunted itself but was always there, just beneath the surface.

your eyes followed the motion, drinking in the sight of him. he wasn’t showy about his body — he never had been — but the quiet confidence in the way he moved was more than enough to make your pulse race.

catching your gaze, kenma gave a faint smirk, lowering himself between your legs again. “you’re staring,” he murmured, brushing a hand over your side. his touch was warm, grounding, full of intent.

“can you blame me?” you replied softly, pulling him closer until his chest was pressed against yours.

his forehead rested against yours for a moment as he breathed you in. “i just want to make you feel good,” he whispered.

then, with slow, deliberate movement, he shifted, positioning himself against you. one hand cupped your jaw while the other guided himself to your entrance.

“ready?” he asked, voice low, careful — not because he doubted you, but because he always wanted to be sure.

kenma guides himself slowly, carefully, and when his tip finally meets your warmth, your breath catches — a soft gasp slipping from your lips.

he stills for a second, eyes flicking up to meet yours, searching for any hesitation. but you only nod, your fingers tightening around his arms, urging him closer.

he presses forward with aching slowness, every inch a stretch that makes your back arch and your lips part. the moment is thick with heat, but also something unspoken — trust, connection, the quiet reverence in the way he touches you like you’re something sacred.

“you feel… incredible,” he murmurs, voice barely audible as he sinks in deeper. his forehead falls to your shoulder, his breath shuddering against your skin.

you wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him closer, and he responds with a deep groan — the sound low, restrained. he gives you a moment to adjust, holding you close, grounding both of you in the shared intensity.

then, his hips move — slow, deliberate — drawing a moan from your throat as your body melts beneath his. he rocks into you with care, but every movement is full of intent, of need. his hands find yours, fingers weaving together, grounding you both as he sets a rhythm that sends warmth coiling deep in your belly.

“just like that,” he breathes into your ear. “i’ve got you.”

your gasp melted into a sigh as kenma held you close, his forehead resting against yours. his movements were slow at first, careful, as if memorizing every part of you. he kissed your temple, then your cheek, his hands cradling your waist with a gentleness that made your chest ache.

“you feel so good,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but thick with emotion.

you could only hold onto him, nails digging lightly into his back, grounding yourself in the moment. the world felt small — just you, him, and the warmth blooming between you.

kenma looked at you then, eyes dark but soft. “tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

you shook your head, breathless. “don’t stop.”

he smiled, something quiet and tender. and he didn’t. his rhythm deepened, steady and certain, every touch saying what words couldn’t. you weren’t just connected — you were intertwined.

kenma’s pace stayed measured, like he was savoring every second, every soft sound that left your lips. his hand found yours and laced your fingers together, grounding you further as your bodies moved in sync — a quiet rhythm built on trust and closeness.

you felt your body react to him instinctively — the way his movements reached that perfect rhythm, the way his voice wrapped around you like warmth. kenma's breath hitched when he felt the way your body tightened around him, and he slowed just enough to press a kiss to your temple.

"you're close, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice low and breathless. "i can feel it."

you nodded, your fingers curling against his back as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, breath trembling against his skin. he held you tighter — not to control, but to keep you grounded, tethered to him.

“words, baby,” he murmured, voice rough near your ear. “need to hear you.”

“ugh… yes, kenma. please,” you breathed, the desperation in your voice making his heart stutter.

he smiled, lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. “that’s my girl.”

one of his hands slipped between you, fingers finding your clit with practiced ease. he began to rub slow, deliberate circles, coaxing you closer with every motion — his rhythm unrelenting, but full of care. you gasped into his mouth, your thighs tightening around his hips as your body began to tremble under the wave building inside you.

“just like that,” he whispered, his forehead pressed to yours. “you’re doing so well for me.”

your body trembled beneath him, every nerve alight as he continued to move with you — slow, intentional, like he didn’t want to miss a single reaction you gave him. his fingers remained on your skin, drawing soft circles, guiding you closer and closer.

“almost there, baby?” he whispered against your ear, his voice a low, soothing hum.

you nodded again, eyes fluttering shut as the wave built. kenma leaned in, kissing the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw — like he was trying to hold you together even as he helped you fall apart.

and when the release finally came, it was warm and overwhelming — your name caught in his throat, your body arching into his as he held you through it. his fingers didn’t stop until he felt you pulse around him, clenching tightly. that was all it took.

with a low, strained groan, kenma followed, hips stuttering as he pressed deeper. the warmth of his release filled you almost instantly, making you gasp at the sensation. he buried his face against your neck, breath heavy, arms trembling slightly as he held onto you like he never wanted to let go.

the room was quiet save for the sound of your mingled breathing — hearts still racing, skin flushed and sticky with heat.

kenma didn’t speak right away. he just kissed your shoulder softly, then pulled back enough to look at you, his gaze half-lidded but tender.

“we’re not done yet, baby,” he murmured, voice low and teasing.

his hands trailed down your sides with purpose, and before you could catch your breath, he gently guided you to turn, his touch both reassuring and firm. now you were on your knees, the sheets cool beneath your skin and his presence warm behind you.

you felt him press close, his hands exploring slowly, as if memorizing every inch of you all over again. a quiet moan escaped your lips as he leaned forward, his breath hot against your shoulder.

“still doing okay?” he asked, a hint of playfulness tucked beneath the concern in his voice.

you nodded, breathless, already anticipating what was next.

kenma’s body was warm against yours, his touch steady and slow as he guided your hips just right. you could feel the pressure of him behind you, the way he teased at your entrance with deliberate, featherlight motion — a silent promise that made your breath hitch.

he leaned over you, lips brushing your ear. “you feel too good,” he whispered, voice rough and reverent.

your hands gripped the sheets, knuckles pale, as he finally moved with more intent — slow at first, savoring every moment, every sound you made. the connection between you sparked anew, heady and overwhelming, and all you could do was let yourself feel it — every pulse, every shiver, every breath you took together.

when he finally entered you again, your body reacted instantly — a sharp gasp, a moan torn from your lips, your muscles trembling under the weight of overstimulation. every nerve felt alive, your skin tingling where his hands steadied your hips.

“still with me?” he murmured, his voice low and strained, pressed right behind your ear.

you nodded, eyes fluttering shut, overwhelmed by the intensity but craving more of it — more of him. each slow, deliberate movement pushed you closer to the edge again, your breath hitching with every deep thrust.

kenma’s fingers stayed locked with yours, his grip tight — not just for you, but for himself too. the room was filled with the rhythm of your connection: the sound of skin meeting skin, breathy moans tangled with soft groans, the kind of music only two people completely lost in each other could make.

his pace never faltered, steady and deep, every movement hitting that spot that made you shudder. you could feel how close he was again — the way his breath hitched, the subtle tremble in his hold, the quiet curse he let slip against your shoulder.

“you feel so good,” he whispered, voice hoarse, like he was holding on by a thread.

he kissed along your back, each press of his lips sending a ripple of shivers through you. the contrast of his tenderness against the intensity of his rhythm made everything feel more heightened, more intimate — like he was trying to show you, with every breath and every touch, just how deeply he felt it too.

“you’re doing so good for me,” he murmured against your skin, voice low and ragged.

your body responded instinctively, leaning into every word, every motion. the sensation built again — not just the physical, but the emotional weight of it all. it was consuming, a shared fire pulling you both closer to the edge, tethered by more than just touch.

his arm curled securely around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, while his other hand slid up to your chest, fingers splaying gently over your heartbeat. your back pressed flush against his bare chest, the heat of his skin matching yours, slick and electric with every movement.

kenma’s pace quickened, each motion purposeful, building upon the tension already thick between you. you could feel his breath against your ear — staggered, heavy, and desperate — matching the rhythm he set.

“you feel so good,” he whispered, voice low and breathless, as if the words were pulled straight from his core. “so perfect.”

every inch of you was alive beneath his touch. the way he held you — like you were something precious and irreplaceable — only deepened the intensity between you, making the pleasure that much harder to hold back.

he turned your face gently toward his, capturing your lips in a deep, breath-stealing kiss. it was messy, uncoordinated with urgency, lips parting between panting breaths and soft moans. his hand slid lower, finding that sensitive spot between your thighs, fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles that made your body twitch beneath him.

the other hand cupped your chest, thumb brushing over your skin with just enough pressure to make you gasp into his mouth. the sensations layered — the heat, the closeness, the way he murmured your name between kisses — until you could barely tell where your body ended and his began.

"kenma, can i please come?" you whimpered against his lips, your voice trembling with need.

"go on, baby," he murmured, brushing his lips against your cheek. "you deserve it."

with those words, everything unraveled. your fourth release crashed over you like a wave — intense and consuming. your body tensed and trembled in his arms, a breathless cry leaving your lips as he held you through it, never letting go.

kenma followed moments after, his release finding you again, warm and deep, leaving you feeling full and overwhelmed in the best way. the shared intensity lingered between you, breath mingling, bodies pressed tightly together.

he pressed soft, lingering kisses to your neck and shoulder, his lips barely parting between quiet, reverent praises — like every word was just for you.

kenma gently laid you down on the bed, his touch never leaving you. his hands moved slowly over your sides, massaging tenderly, easing the lingering tremble in your muscles. he leaned in, brushing soft kisses along your shoulder, your neck, your jaw — each one slow and purposeful.

between kisses, you heard the low murmur of his voice, barely more than a breath against your skin.

"mine," he whispered, possessive but gentle. "good girl."

kenma stayed close, his chest pressed to your back, breath still warm against your shoulder. the room had gone quiet now, save for the soft hum of your shared breaths and the distant ticking of the clock on the wall. his fingers moved slowly along your side, not with intent — just comfort, like he needed to feel you to know this was real.

you let out a small, content sigh, burying your face into the crook of his neck, where your warmth and his seemed to melt together. “you’re quieter than usual,” you whispered, your voice soft and sleepy.

he made a quiet sound, almost like a laugh. “just thinking,” he murmured, pressing a slow kiss to your temple. “you… really helped.”

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, eyes still heavy with exhaustion but full of quiet affection. “helped how?”

his thumb gently brushed your cheek as he looked at you. “i don’t know. everything’s loud lately — in my head. work. people. expectations. but when i’m here with you, it’s like the volume just… shuts off.”

your heart tugged at that, at how vulnerable his voice had gotten, at how carefully he let you see the pieces of himself he kept hidden from the rest of the world.

you leaned in, kissed his collarbone softly, then nuzzled against his skin. “i like it when you're like this,” you said quietly. “soft. real.”

kenma rested his chin lightly on the top of your head. “i’m always real with you,” he murmured. “even if i don’t know how to say everything out loud… you hear me anyway.”

the room stilled again, but this time the silence felt intentional — sacred, even. like nothing more needed to be said.

his hand slipped beneath the covers, coming to rest over your stomach, fingers splaying protectively. he pulled you a little closer, the warmth of him pressed fully along your spine. “you’re mine,” he murmured again, half-asleep but still clear. “always.”

you felt your heart flutter, soothed more than you expected by the quiet claim. your body, still tender and spent, finally began to relax completely. you let your hand reach back to rest over his, lacing your fingers gently with his own.

“did i destress you already?” you teased, voice thick with exhaustion and something sweeter.

kenma chuckled softly against your shoulder. “you did more than that,” he said, kissing the back of your neck again. “you brought me back.”

your eyes slipped shut at that, a slow smile curling on your lips. his hand didn’t leave yours, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest against your back began to lull you both toward sleep. the air was warm, his body even warmer, and for the first time in days — maybe weeks — your mind wasn’t racing. there was just him, and the steady rhythm of the two of you breathing together.

“i love you,” you whispered into the quiet, not even sure if he was still fully awake.

but he heard you.

“i love you too,” he murmured back, softer than anything, but real.

and in that warmth, tangled together beneath the covers, you both drifted — slowly, peacefully — into sleep.

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softlymellow · 2 months ago

Text

The Order Forgot Me First - Chapter 6

☆⁠ PAIRING : Anakin Skywalker x Reader

☆⁠ word count: 3.3k

☆⁠ story themes: lovers to enemies to eventually lovers

☆⁠ warnings: spoilers to swtcw, angstttt

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

"...he almost remembered what it meant to him. Except he didn't. Instead, it was a taste from a dream he couldn’t quite remember."

A dimly lit mission room deep within the Jedi Temple, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-wan Kenobi and Mace Windu gathered around a holographic display. The hum of the holographic offered a soft backdrop to their conversation.

“Many reports of two skilled bounty under the names ‘Ani’ and ‘Dev’ have been causing disruptions across various sectors.” Mace Windu sternly said whilst Anakin gulped at the use of a name he hasn’t heard in a year. “They have slipped through the Republic forces on multiple occasions.”

Obi-wan leaned forward, “two bounty hunters causing this much trouble? That's unusual.”

“Indeed. But their methods have grown more aggressive, even by bounty hunter standards. What is more concerning is Dev. ” Mace Windu tapped the datapad and the holographic image flickered to life, a materialised image of a young boy no older than 15.

“But that’s only a boy.” Anakin furrowed his eyebrows at Mace Windu, confusion evident on his face.

“Once a boy, yes. He was once a skilled Jedi, dismissed from the Order for the refusal to adhere to the Code. His descent began when he lost his family and, in a fit of anger, slaughtered civilians. Dark tendencies grew within him.”

Anakin stiffened immediately and felt a foreboding feeling grow in his stomach. Obi-wan's expression darkened beside him. “A former Jedi turned bounty hunter with such a violent past…It’s troubling.”

“And what about this..Ani?” Anakin reluctantly asked.

“She is a much newer addition to the bounty hunting world, but she has proved to be some sort of a prodigy. They were just spotted on Corellia after a bombing to capture Dengar, another well known bounty who worked with Maul and Savage to capture me.” Mace Windu informed them, turning off the holograph.

Obi-wan frowned, concern etching lines on his face. “We’re going after two bounty hunters? Isn’t that more of a job for local security forces in Corellia?”

Mace’s gaze shifted from Anakin to Obi-wan, “You both are uniquely skilled in dealing with unconventional situations. We need to contain them before they both spiral out of control.”

Anakin’s jaw tightened, resolve evident in his eyes. “Understood, Master Windu.”

Obi-wan nodded in agreement, his focus unwavering. “We’ll head to Corellia immediately.”

“Good. May the force guide your actions.” Mace Windu stood tall.

—

Anakin and Obi-wan sat in the ship en route to Corellia. Neither had spoken a word, just eyes drifting at the stars that illuminated outside.

Dev.

Ani.

Not their real names. It wasn't hard to miss the amount of blanks throughout their whole file. Dev's one gave a general consensus though; a disobedient Jedi Padawan, now a runaway. But the latter… No image. No backstory. It was as if she only existed a few months ago.

Anakin ran a hand through his hair, teeth gnawing the inside of lips. His eyes lazily read the datapad in his lap. A boy stared back at him. Dev. Just 15 years of age in the image, younger than the recent sightings of him. Much younger. His eyes looked hollow, already hard. Like part of him had lost something but was never filled again.

“Nothing on the girl?” Obi-wan asked beside him, still gazing out the window, but deep in thought.

Anakin inhaled, his chest rising against his robes and shook his head. “Nothing. Her name is clearly a placeholder, but no record of her.” Anakin turned off the datapad.

“She is either very smart,” Obi-wan murmured, “or lucky.”

Anakin leaned in his seat not liking either answer. “What business do they have blowing up a civilian square in the middle of a Corellian protest?”

Obi-wan stroked his beard, “I’d say they are after another bounty hunter. Denger I assume. He was spotted here the night before.”

“So they try and bring him in, only to level half the plaza in the process?”

“Looks like it.”

Scoffing, Anakin dragged his hand down his face.

Outside the ship, Corellia was a mess. Alarms sounding through the cities, smoke darkening the skies and protest fires on the rooftops. What was usually a beautiful planet is now filled with protests against the war.

Once the ship doors opened, Anakin and Obi-wan were hit with heat. Not physical. But tension. Soldiers and civilians buzzing through the streets, it was as if they weren’t at a docking platform.

“Well, it seems like we have your day cut out for us.” Obi-wan muttered as they made their way down the streets, glancing at the protest signs abandoned on the floor. “No Justice, No peace” was written in Corellian dialect.

Burn marks scattered around the floor piquing Anakin’s interests. Crouching down, his fingers gently grazed the soot left, leaving his fingers darkened.

“There was a bombing,” Anakin concluded, spotting several pieces of metal scattered around the floor.

Obi-wan nodded, "the security reports said they did vanish into the crowds before troops arrived.” His eyes scanned the crowd up ahead. “I’d say our perpetrators are there.”

That annoyed Anakin more than it should have.

“Then we’ll start there,” Anakin said.

—

Corellia bled with fury and fight.

Anakin walked ahead, his hood drawn low and his feet dragging along the concrete, stones skidding away. He wasn’t really in the mood. Trying to find 2 cloaked figures in a sea of more cloaked figures wasn’t exactly ideal. After 2 hours of dead ends, he kept replaying the grainy footage hoping it would offer a clue.

On the other hand, Obi-wan walked behind being Obi-wan. A calm diplomatic Jedi master. He was always asking the right questions to the right vendors, nodding and being friendly. His warm voice made people eager and more keen to offer tips.

“I spoke to the surveillance clerk”, Obi-wan broke the silence, catching up to Anakin. “He said the crowd tripled after the bombing, half running to shelter and the other protesting even more.”

Anakin stopped in front of a sign that read “THE REPUBLIC DOESN’T SEE US”, the edges of the banner burnt.

“Give it a few days and then the Senate will fix this with a speech.”

Obi-wan’s face hardened, “Well it is the Senate’s job to do that.”

“It shouldn’t be.” Anakin muttered, leaving Obi-wan dumbfounded. Did he mean that the planet should fend for itself, fixing its own politics? Or did he mean that the Senate was useless, giving out speeches with no real backlayer. Maybe a bit of both.

Obi-wan pursed his lips, his eyes scanning the buildings that now had a layer of dust covering it. Walking was starting to get irritating as every few seconds a person would nudge their shoulder with their own, making them lose focus every few seconds.

That’s when Anakin saw it.

Small smears of red on the cobblestone wall. Dried and just there. Followed by a few more droplets that painted the floor into an alley.

Anakin crouched down taking a further look, gaining Obi-wan’s attention.

“Blood.” Obi-wan hummed, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

“Might not be theirs.”

“Still, we are Jedi. Whoever blood it belongs to may need help.” Obi-wan advised.

They followed the trail that led to a rusted backdoor. Anakin didn’t hesitate. Immediately pushing past the door as it creaked loudly.

It was dim inside.

And in the corner was an elderly Twi’lek couple.

Anakin and Obi-wan both flinched, least expecting to break into a home.

The couple sat on the floor, a blanket engulfing their lower body and a half-crushed medpac that rested near their feet.

Obi-wan immediately put his hands up in defence, “We’re not here to harm you.”

The couple's eyes traced both Anakin and Obi-wan’s figure, their eyes flickering between the saber’s that rested on their hip and their defensive face.

Noticing that they haven’t said anything, Anakin used the opportunity and stepped forward, the woman clutched her blanket a bit tightly.

“We’re investigating the bombing that happened here. Do you know anything about that?”

The male shook his head, his blue tentacle like tendrils moving with him, “N-no.”

Obi-wan moved up with Anakin, realising that they can speak Basic. “A young man with blonde hair and a cloaked girl. Does it sound any familiar?”

The couple stiffened.

Silence.

Anakin folded his arms and furrowed his brows, “they came here. Didn’t they?” His tone lowered.

Silence.

“They paid you.” Obi-wan spoke calmly, already analysing the situation.

The purple woman looked down, and then gently picked up the half used medpac, her hands shaking.

“The girl…was worried.” Her voice was soft spoken. “Not for herself, but him. He was bleeding.”

Obi-wan crossed his arms, parallel to Anakin and stared down the medpac. “So you helped them..”

“It is not a crime to help someone!” The man besides her called out defensively, squinting his eyes.

“Well it is a crime to help terrorists,” Anakin muttered, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Terrorists?” The woman's eyes widened. “They were terrorists?”

Obi-wan glanced over to Anakin and tried to laugh it off, not wanting to send the couple into cardiac arrest. “Well. We aren’t sure of anything.” He tilted his head. “Do you know where they are now?”

The older woman nodded speedily, “She said she was heading to the city square where the protests are. Near the farmers market. But..she was scared.”

Anakin lifted his brow, “of what?”

Looking him dead in the eye, “being seen,” she announced.

–

Obi-wan and Anakin were on the outskirts, just enough steps to see the masses of bodies that moved.

Protestors moved, some shouted and some watched. It wasn’t long before Obi-wan caught a flicker.

A flicker of gold that was reflecting from the sun. Moving too fast. An uncomfortable limp.

Obi-wan’s eyes widened and locked onto the figure. Blonde hair. Broad shoulders. It was worth a shot.

“That might be him,” Anakin huffed, already making his way down, eager to end this mission.

Obi-wan rolled his eyes, “Always ahead of the game,” he said, racing down the steps and into the crowd.

It was suffocating. You could feel the sweat and anger that radiated off the bodies.

Obi-wan pushed through bodies, wanting the man to enter a clearing before holding him in the masses of people. Locals were yelling in languages he didn’t recognise which only intensified everything around him. His cloak constantly was snagging on someone’s arm but he didn’t stop, pushing through, curses were flying at him.

He needed an opening - just one - and it would be fine.

Something is off.

The force rippled.

The blonde headed man suddenly turned his head towards Obi-wan.

It was him. It was Dev.

And not far behind him was a cloaked figure. Her.

Dev locked eyes with Obi-wan, his eyes widening and stray locks of hair falling on his face.

“Jedi!” Dev exclaimed to you, his eyes darting between behind you and yourself.

Without even taking a chance to glance behind you, you began to push through the crowd. Gritting your teeth, you used your arms to almost shove people out of the way. You could not be caught as a bounty hunter. It was not necessarily the legality of it, it was the bombing that was associated with you and it was your honour shattering that you have been reduced to this much. How low the galaxy forced you to crawl just to survive.

Just a little further. A little further and there was an opening and you got yourself out of this mess.

“Dev! Over there!” You barked, pointing towards the clearing. Dev nodded and attempted to make his way out with his limp. His face pale but understanding. He always understood. Understood you. You didn’t need to speak much for him to completely understand you.

You surged through the crowd with all your might. Suddenly hyper aware of the blaster at your side, your fingers grazed it, ready to use if anyone tried touching you.

Relief. Oxygen. As you finally made it out of the crowd. Your hands were shaking but you didn’t stop, you can’t stop.

And then- a shove.

Dev’s body slammed into the ground right where he was supposed to make it out and the Jedi tackled him to the side. You heard him grunt in protest, his wrists pinned and the right of his face scraped against the ground.

Before you could react and turn back to Dev, you heard the hum of a saber.

Right behind you.

What should I do?

Fuck.

They’re getting closer.

Your lungs feel like they could explode and your chest hurts. You’re running so fast. Any of that relief you had just felt from making it out was gone. Dead. You just felt like you were burning. Your veins pumping with adrenaline – hot and sharp and screaming.

You didn’t dare look behind you. If you did it would slow you down immensely.

But it didn’t matter.

A rough hand –bigger than your own– pulling on your forearm, throwing you down, your hood falling in the process. Without another second to think your free arm gripped onto your vibroblade. Having been pulled down to the ground, you shifted your body to meet the Jedi, your blade coated in cortosis weave and pointing up towards said person.

…

“Y/n?”

It was like time stopped.

You locked eyes.

Your mouth fell open.

His did too. Confusion. Bewilderment. Shock. All on his face.

His voice… Sounded different. Quieter than you remembered. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t hateful. Just quiet. Broken.

Your right hand weakened and the blade fell down on the floor besides you, the metal clanging against the concrete. Your palms fell on the floor and you found yourself staring at…Anakin above you.

Anakin staggered back, stunned, as if he was shot straight through the heart. His head shook slowly and ever so subtly but in complete disbelief.

No one said anything. You couldn’t hear anything. It was just you two. Two broken people. The force felt electrifying, like it was rippling and pulling both of you towards each other.

Anakin loomed over you, the deep blue of his saber still humming, but pointing towards the ground. His own arms feeling too weak to even lift it. His face was unreadable. His dark brown hair looked longer, almost below his ears. His eyes…tired. Like he was staring at a grave.

It wasn’t until the other Jedi came out, holding Dev in handcuffs that you realised your situation. It was Obi-wan, of course it was. Of course it was Anakin and Obi-wan who would catch up to you. Dev struggled in defiance, his face discontent.

Obi-wan walked up beside Anakin, and then his eyes fell on you.

“Y/n?” His voice was quiet, like he wasn’t sure if this was real or not. “You’re Ani?”

You looked away from him, pursing your lips in shame. What were you supposed to say? You weren’t supposed to be caught, stripped of your mask. You were just supposed to be Ani. Not Y/n.

You swallowed hard, your fingers soft in comparison to the floor. You were now looking up to both Anakin and Obi-wan but –force– you felt so much smaller than you actually were.

Anakin inhaled sharply, his saber hissed off yet his grip strong enough that his knuckles were still white. Running a hand through his hair, he turned his back to you, moving away from both you and Obi-wan. You felt the disappointment in the air. You felt the judgement from the people who you used to consider the closest to you. Anakin turning his back to you after a year said more words than he did.

But he could feel his heart hammering against his chest.

thump

He was suddenly hyper aware of his breathing.

thump-thump

The way he wasn't sure what to do with his empty left hand.

thump

The fact that his knees would buck in any minute.

thump-thump-thump

It felt like everything was swirling around him and he needed to ground himself.

However, Obi-wan walked over to you, crouching down to eye level. You noticed the small things in his face, the way he had worry lines on his forehead, a slight frown, and furrowed eyebrows. He wasn’t looking at you like a master or a commander, but a concerned friend.

“Y/n, you became a bounty hunter?” He asked.

You didn’t know how to respond. What were you going to say? Yes? Well, yes you are. But suddenly you felt embarrassed. Ashamed.

“I…” You croaked out.

“You know them?” Dev called out, struggling against his cuffs. All three of you diverted your gaze to Dev.

Dev broke Anakin from his trance, his need to distract himself hitting him harder than ever. He needed to redirect his attention to something else just like he was doing for the past year. Anakin stood still for a moment before grabbing the back of his shirt, replacing Obi-wan but far too aggressively.

“Hold her.” Anakin said to Obi-wan, forcing his voice to be strong. “We’ll take them somewhere else.”

That’s it? That’s all he’s going to say?

Anakin spoke as if he didn’t know you. Like you were some lowlife smuggler. Obi-wan even felt caught between two worlds. Was he supposed to disregard your history together? Or would he hold you accountable?

Clearing his throat, Obi-wan pulled out stuncuffs from his satchel, looking at you as if you were a wounded animal.

“I’m just going to put these on just for now. Precaution.” He said softly.

Nodding, you slipped in your fallen vibroblade to your belt and slowly brought out both your arms in front of him. Obi-wan hesitantly and carefully attached the cuffs to your arms.

Click.

Immediate discomfort radiated in your arms, the restraints tightening specifically on your wrists.

You looked up at Obi-wan who you could tell was uncomfortable with the situation.

“I’m fine, Obi-wan.” You tried to reassure him.

Obi-wan nodded, inhaling deeply before getting up. Scrambling to your feet against the concrete, you rose and immediately felt smaller than you were. Now seeing both Obi-wan and Anakin in their usual height, it felt different. Like there was a rift between you three.

Looking over at Anakin, Obi-wan scratched his beard. “We won’t be able to fly tonight. It seems the city's protests will make it difficult to get out slyly.”

Without a response, Anakin began to drag a cursing Dev to Force knows where.

Obi-wan followed behind him but distant enough, making sure you were keeping up.

The walk felt excruciatingly long as there was nothing but pained silence. Every now and then you could feel Obi-wan’s gaze drill holes in you. Anakin said and did nothing but hold onto Dev and try to find an abandoned place for the night. You were lucky enough Obi-wan still trusted you to allow you to walk on your own.

It wasn’t until he broke the silence.

“Are you okay?” Obi-wan spoke in a hushed voice, trying not to gain Anakin’s attention but that was naive thinking. Anakin heard everything when it came to you.

You blinked at the question, unsure what to say. Your throat tightening but you forced out an “I’m okay.”

Silence.

A beat passed.

“Are you?” He asked again but much quieter. He knew your response and he knew not to expect an answer but if he didn’t ask now it would eat his conscience later.

“Yeah. Just tired.” Anakin’s grip tightened on Dev, their boots scraping and their clothes shifting pulled your focus.

The sky began to set and orange rays stretched far and wide. Dipped in dusk and every step you took would create long shadows of the three of you. The chants from the protest began to fade and street lights began to flicker on.

Anakin was a walking storm. He was silent. You missed the way he said your name. It sounded like honey -warm, golden- like he almost remembered what it meant to him. Except he didn't.

Instead, it was a taste from a dream he couldn’t quite remember.

Anakin stopped at a stone-framed building. Abandoned, yes but still intact. The door had its hinges, there was no lights except from the windows and no lifeforms either. Without saying a word, Anakin dragged Dev inside, the door creaking open and they vanished into the unknown.

You and Obi-wan stood in silence.

“He’ll be alright.” He said gently, not exactly sure if he meant Dev or Anakin. Nodding, you stepped inside first, the evening wind biting your skin. Obi-wan followed right behind you.

A/N: YAAAY ITS HAPPENED im sorry its kinda on a cliff hanger ik yall want longer chapters but i also need to catch up and write :( also just a general q do u guys want this to be a full blown series leading up to order 66 following the clone wars final season/eps with more drama and romance and angst or keep it until this like 'arc' ends.

i lowk feel like a longer series but i feel like tumblr isnt the right place for this lol maybe ao3 or wattpad also hope u guys appreciate me trying to use coordinated gifs for the chapters 😭

HOPE U GUYS LIKE IT THO <3

Taglist: @endairachristensen26 @hayden-christensen-verse @ducks118 @seventeen-x @movingalongthekiwi @ssnapsaurus @caramelfondu @dayrin085 @devilslittlehelper @f1wh0recom @green-lxght @bettysgardenswift

if u want to be added or removed lmk!

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throne-of-blood-and-roses-if · 2 months ago

Text

Welcome to the Official Dev Blog for:

★ Throne of Blood and Roses ★

Link:TBA

“You weren’t meant to be here…but now I can’t imagine any of this without you.”

Wassup yall! I wanted to introduce myself and say thank you for checking out my little pet project. I’m a new interactive fiction writer, and this blog is where I’ll be sharing the process of writing my first IF game: Throne of Blood and Roses. It took a lot of courage for me to do this and show the world something I created. So if you love complicated royals, class tension, slow-burn romance, reality TV drama, and a bit of blood I welcome you home.

★Summery ★

You are a nobody.

A commoner with no fame, no title, barely enough money to your name, and no place among the elite.

So when the royal heir of Eden refused their arranged match to Cain/Delilah/judas Vale a powerful noble born in Eden to rule beside them the kingdom’s fragile court began to crumble.

In a desperate attempt to restore order, King Aldric invoked an ancient law:

“When the heir’s heart falters, the will of Eden shall decide, the Selection Trials shall now commence!”

The Selection Trials is for nobles of other families, celebrities, and high ranking military personnel just those who bleed 24k gold.

Ten elite contestants were invited to compete for the heir’s hand in marriage a televised spectacle of romance, performance, and a little bit of blood.

Then, against all expectation, they chose you. A name no one knew. In a place no one believed you belonged.

No one knows why you was called.

The nobles hate you for it.

The rival wants you erased.

And the heir?

They can’t take their eyes off you.

★ Features ★

• Play as male, female, or nonbinary

• Shape your MC’s identity, appearance, and then do the same for the royal heir whose heart you might win…or break.

• Romance the customizable royal heir or one of four other contestants!

• Survive elimination challenges, scandals, and sabotage

• Choose between love or power

• There’s a Yandere option for a much darker path for this dark love struck heir. (Psst….hey buddy you didn’t hear this from me but you can turn it on at the beginning of the story but you didn’t hear that from me)

• Multiple endings based on trust, ambition, and how far you’ll go

��meet the characters ★

You — The Nobody

“I’m no one. But if I make it to the end, they’ll never forget me.”

Age: 23 | Identity & Appearance: Fully Customizable

Status: Commoner

You’re not powerful, not royal, not wealthy. You’ve worked too many late shifts and been ignored too many times to believe in fairy tales. But now you’re a contender in a deadly game of beauty and blood. You’re the commoner in a den of lions can you survive?

⸻

The Heir of Eden — The Crowned Flame

“They dressed me in gold and told me to smile. But I only feel real when I’m with you.”

Age: 23 | Gender & Appearance: Customizable

Status: Royalty

ROMANCEABLE? Yes (Main RO)

The kingdom watches their every step. Perfect posture. Perfect smile. A perfect lie. The Heir rejected a noble match and set the Trials into motion. In private, their guard slips. And when their eyes linger on you, it’s not for politics.

⸻

Yandere Mode (Optional)

“You don’t understand, I’d burn this entire kingdom for you.”

When enabled, the Heir’s love becomes dangerous. They watch you too closely. Need you too deeply. And if the world tries to take you away—they’ll tear it apart, piece by piece. Their obsession is quiet. Until it isn’t.

⸻

Cain (male)/ Delilah (female)/ Judas (nonbinary) Vale — The Obsessed Rival

“You flickered into their world like a spark. Beautiful. Brief. But I’ll be the one to snuff you out.”

Age: 23 | Gender: player's choice

Appearance: Pale skin, sleek onyx hair, frozen blue eyes, perfectly controlled posture

Status: Noble

ROMANCEABLE? No

They were supposed to be the one. Groomed since birth to stand beside the Heir, Cain/Delilah’s rejection shattered their image—and their pride. They smile like royalty and speak like venom. Your presence is an insult they won’t forget.

⸻

Elias / Elara Kane — The Stoic Blade

“I was taught to protect power. You make me want to protect something else.”

Age: 26 | Gender: Selectable

Appearance: Deep brown skin, strong frame, close-cropped or braided hair, unreadable eyes

Status: Noble Guard

ROMANCEABLE? Yes

A soldier at heart, Elias/Elara didn’t come to win a crown. They came because they were ordered to. Quiet, loyal, and focused—until you break their routine. Then the stillness becomes something far more dangerous: care.

⸻

Phoenix “Nix” Vega — The Wild Spark

“You’re trouble. The kind I like to keep around.”

Age: 25 | Pronouns: They/Them

Appearance: Sun-bronzed skin, bright green eyes, wild red-black curls, piercings and a sharp grin

Status: Celebrity

ROMANCEABLE? Yes

They live for the spotlight—and the chaos just behind it. Nix walks into every room like they own it, flirt with danger, and laugh like they’ve never been hurt. They came for attention. But something about you holds it.

⸻

Vivian / Vincent Sinclair — The Mastermind

“I don’t gamble. But I’d be willing to bet on you.”

Age: 24 | Gender: Selectable

Appearance: Pale, platinum-blond hair, silver-gray eyes, tailored style and colder smiles

Status: Political Elite

ROMANCEABLE? Yes

Sinclair always plays the long game. Everything they do has purpose—especially when they let you in. They don’t fall easily. But once you have their attention, they won’t let go.

⸻

Alexis — The Heir’s Constant

“They need someone who won’t lie to them. If that’s not you, walk away now.”

Age: 24 | Gender: Same as the Heir

Appearance: Olive-toned skin, soft dark eyes, pulled-back waves or curls, simple but elegant fashion

Status: Noble | Royal Confidant

ROMANCEABLE? No

Alexis has known the Heir longer than anyone. Loyal but not blind, affectionate but guarded—they care deeply. All they want is what’s best for the person behind the crown. If you’re that person, they’ll protect you too. If you’re not? They’ll make sure you don’t stay.

⸻

Queen Lysandra Castellan — The Velvet Flame

“The Trials is just a stage. Let’s see what you look like when the light hits you.”

Age: Early 40s

Appearance: Same skin tone as the Heir, hazel eyes, chestnut-brown hair pinned in golden filigree

Status: Queen

ROMANCEABLE? No

Elegant, sharp, and politically lethal. Lysandra rules with silk and steel. She knows her child’s heart better than most—but she also knows the court won’t spare it. She watches you closely. She may see more in you than you expect.

⸻

King Aldric Castellan — The Iron Crown

“Eden was not built on kindness. It will not be saved by it either.”

Age: Mid-40s

Appearance: Dark brown skin, steel-gray eyes, silver-streaked black hair, posture that never wavers

Status: King

ROMANCEABLE? No

A man forged in war and ruled by legacy. The Trials are his creation—a move to hold the kingdom together, not unite lovers. He speaks little, but when he does, people listen. If you earn his respect, you’ll change history. If you don’t… you’ll be forgotten.

⸻

Selene — The Quiet Strength

“If the palace changes you, make sure you’re still someone I can be proud of.”

Age: Late 40s

Appearance: Same skin tone as MC, thick silver-streaked curls, tired hands and a steady gaze

Status: Commoner

ROMANCEABLE? No

Selene has never asked for much—just that her children survive. She’s seen how the world devours people who dare to hope. Her love is firm, her words plain, and her worry never hidden.

⸻

Mira — The Firebrand Sister

“If they hurt you, I swear I’ll burn the castle down myself.”

Age: 16

Appearance: Same skin tone as MC, dark expressive eyes, long hair in a messy bun, combat boots and rebellion

Status: Commoner

ROMANCEABLE? No

Too young for the Trials. Too smart to trust them. Mira is your shadow and your spark—loud, loyal, and always ready to fight for you. Even when you’re the one making it hardest.

#if wip #dashingdon #interactive fiction #interactive game #choice script #hosted games #cog game #choice of games #throne of blood and roses #writing

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velvetalliances-if · 1 month ago

Text

🕊️ VELVET ALLIANCES

A high medieval interactive fiction story of legacy, betrayal, power.

“If you wish to survive in court, speak softly, marry smartly, and never show them where it hurts. I’ve buried more men than you’ve shaken hands with, I know what ends a legacy and I won’t see ours crumble for sentiment.”

- Lady Virelda Rovathar, your Grandmother

🏰 The Story

Set in the shadowed grandeur of the Valderith Empire, Velvet Alliances tells the story of House Rovathar, a once proud noble house nestled in the mountainous heart of the empire. Known for its mines and smiths, the house has endured, but never recovered, from a scandal that shattered its foundation twelve years ago.

A beloved wife lost.

A bastard child revealed.

A father turned cold.

Now, Lord Malrik Rovathar, rigid and embittered, seeks to change the ancient laws of succession, risking family stability, loyalty, and the delicate order of the court. His children, each scarred in their own way by grief and impossible expectations, begin to turn on one another, pulled by love, ambition, and old wounds.

And soon, they will have no choice but to play their roles before the entire empire.

For a grand festival within the imperial capital of Viremont draws near, held in celebration of the crown prince’s 20th birthday. Every noble house is expected to attend. What was once a quiet family struggle will now unfold beneath the gaze of the emperor, as well as your fellow noble families.

In the flickering light of courtly celebration, alliances will be forged, secrets uncovered, and legacies tested.

🎭 Your Role

You are the third-born child of House Rovathar, caught at the heart of the family’s unraveling. You’ve been overlooked, underestimated, and quietly shaped by the chaos around you.

It’s a story of velvet words and iron consequences.

Will you try to save your family's legacy or tarnish it further?

Will you bind the family together, or let it tear itself apart?

🔹 Features

Deeply branching character-driven narrative

Complex family relationships & moral dilemmas

Court intrigue, noble alliances, and personal betrayal

Optional romance, friendship and rivalry arcs

Customizable MC

💪 Stats

Here is a link that discusses how your MC's stats are going to work.

♥️ MC’s Romance

You’ll have the opportunity to pursue one of four (planned) romances options.

Séraphan Viremont, 20 M

Eveline Lysvenna, 23 F

Kaelen Branthorne, 24 M

Céline Marleaux, 21 F

There may also be the opportunity for some flings with some other characters as well.

💒 Side Romance

Your young half sister has a heart of her own, and her eye has fallen on someone close to the court. Will you encourage her budding feelings, try to dissuade her, or try to pursue the object of her affection for yourself?

If you do not want to see spoilers on who her romance is with please block the tag Lirael<3.

Character Introductions

World Map - In development

Map of Valderith

Demo - TBD

💬 Dev Note:

Velvet Alliances is currently in early development. This blog will serve as a place for updates, worldbuilding posts, character reveals, and story previews. Asks are open, and feedback is more than welcome.

⚠️ Content Warnings for Velvet Alliances

Velvet Alliances is a character-driven, narrative-focused story that includes mature themes. Players should be advised of the following subject matter, which may appear in the game:

Velvet Alliances will be 18 plus for optional nsfw content.

Sexism and gender-based succession issues (this will be in no way glorified)

Parental neglect and emotionally distant parenting

Psychological manipulation and coercion

Violence and mentions of death

Emotional abuse and toxic family dynamics

Some mention of infidelity

If there is any warning I may have missed please do not hesitate to let me know and I will add it to the content warnings list. I aim to create a positive and safe space for readers to navigate the complex world I have created, and I will not tolerate bullying of any kind in any space I moderate. My inbox will always remain open for anyone who has questions or concerns.

#interactive fiction #interactive game #interactive story #interactive novel #Velvet Alliances #interact-if #court drama #Cog #Cyoa #if wip #if intro #twine if #twine interactive fiction

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aventurineswife · 6 days ago

Note

oh! Oh! What about a creator for sahsrau and sagau who has these really cool glitchy-like holographic effects (kinda like silver wolf) meaning that creator essentially codes themselves into the game to interact with sagau and sahsrau!!

YES. YESSS. That idea is peak divine techno-deity energy. Like you’re not just some distant god—they see you render yourself into their world, all flickering light and digital seams, bending the boundaries of the game from the inside.

You don’t descend like a traditional god. You phase in—a crackle of corrupted space, code threads trailing behind you, your form warping and stabilizing like a hologram constantly trying to keep up with your divine presence.

Think Silver Wolf’s aesthetic meets cosmic programmer: neon glitch trails when you move, static-y distortion when you speak, and UI-like sigils that hover around you—your eyes scan like debug overlays, like you’re seeing behind the curtain of the world. You’re not from their side of the screen.

You're not playing the game anymore. You are the system now.

SAGAU Characters Reaction:

These are the ones who see you as the divine architect of Teyvat—and now you’re walking around like a living console command.

Nahida is fascinated. She wants to learn from you, watching the code flutter off your fingertips like ancient scripture. “You… wrote this world, didn’t you?”

Albedo tries to understand your existence through science and alchemy, but eventually just surrenders and says, “You are beyond categorization.”

Ei? She's shook. You represent both eternity and impermanence—because you alter reality like it's clay. She becomes obsessed with understanding your form. Are you divine… or unstable?

Venti sings about your glitches like they're divine stutters—“Oh holy one, whose voice is broken only to be heard clearer.” He thinks it's beautifully haunting.

Diluc? Externally calm. Internally: That’s the god? The one glitching in and out of space?? Yeah, he’s processing. Slowly.

Childe is 100% down bad. You made the world and look like a living cheat code? He’s signing up for the cult.

Your glitchiness makes them think: they’re not just visiting—they're rewriting reality as they go.

SAHSRAU Characters Reaction:

This bunch? They’re more tech-savvy. They know what code is. But the moment you code yourself into existence? Their minds blow.

Silver Wolf basically IMPRINTS on you. “Waitwaitwait. You’re the dev and the system and the user?” She's practically vibrating. “You are the game. That's so hot— I mean, fascinating.”

Kafka watches your glitched entrance, smirking: “So you chose to break the rules to be with us? How romantic.”

Dan Heng tries to stay stoic, but his databank starts erroring. You literally exist outside known logic.

Blade thinks you're a hallucination until you patch his health bar in real time. He doesn’t say thanks, but the silence means something.

March 7th is amazed and immediately wants to take holographic selfies with you. “Does your code sparkle on purpose??”

You glitch in, rewrite the world, then ask if anyone wants to hang out. And they’re like: “HOW is this our god?? HOW are they this casually omnipotent?!?”

Your Powers Might Include:

Hovering UI menus no one else can see.

Code strings trailing off you like falling flower petals.

The ability to patch or delete enemies in real time.

Pulling someone’s status screen into the air with a flick of your hand.

Saying "/noclip on" and phasing through walls.

You’re less “chosen one” and more debug mode incarnate.

#x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sahsrau #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau

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jazziejax · 5 months ago

Text

𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Dev-Em x Black!OC

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - 𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - flirting, mentions of sex, unknown world confusion, slight jealousy, and I tried to make this a slow burn but I might be a little fast with the way I’m going, idk

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - I know it’s been a minute, I KNOW YOU WANT A BAD BOYS UPDATE, but I’m collecting more so I can release two at a time. Plus, I’m lowkey in a Snowfall moment right now and trying my best in to write for Franklin Saint/Damson Idris because once I’m in the mindset of the drug game, it’s hard to get out of. (I’m so dramatic 🙄) Imagine Leroy and Giorgio who you want, i had Danny Glover and Joey Bada$$ in mind. UNEDITED, sorry for any spelling errors and grimmer issues, I don’t like re-reading my own work :(

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 8,096+

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - ᯓ★

“So, we need to get some sort of story in order before we see Uncle Leroy.” She said, her flyaways blowing within the wind.

The golden sunlight of Louisiana filtered through the dense canopy of oak trees draped in Spanish moss, casting dappled shadows on the winding dirt road. Magnolia had one hand on the steering wheel of her old pickup truck, the other tapping nervously on the door of the open window. The ride was silent the majority of the time it took them to get to Leroy’s. Dev’s eyes were trained out of the window, jumping between all of the different things he could as they went from the scarce homes of the countryside to the French-style city. He would see the occasional stray dog that ran with some others as they raced for scraps or a stork rise for the waters and fly off.

Magnolia would glance over now and then, watch as Dev leaned forward slightly, his piercing eyes scanning everything outside with the intensity of someone cataloging the world for the first time. She assumed speaking would snap him out of his thoughts, but his gaze was focused intensely out of the window.

“You don’t blink much, do you?” Magnolia asked, squinting over at him out of the corner of her eye.

Dev turned his gaze to her at that, his expression calm but curious. “Blinking is inefficient when observing. I might miss something important.” She stated.

“You sound like some sort is soldier.” She said, letting out a small chortle. She glanced over at him to see his eyes flicker away from her, his jaw flexing quickly as he trained his eyes out of the car again. She could see that her statement hit a nerve, so she just awkwardly cleared her throat. “Well, now that I have your attention.” She began as her fingers flexed on the wheel. “When we get to Uncle Leroy’s, just let me do all the talking, okay? He’s old and suspicious of everything so there will be a lot of questions and I don’t want his mumbo jumbo to confuse you.” Her words only caused Dev to furrow his brows slightly, glancing over at her.

“Mumbo Jumbo?” He questioned. Magnolia just blinked at him. “Right.” She said. “Uh, forget that. Let’s just get our story straight, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Um….”She trailed off as she thought, tapping her fingers against the door her arm rested on. “You’re a friend from college!” She stated, glancing over at him with a nervous smile. “We can say you’re in the military and you just got back from deployment and needed a place to stay.” She said with a grin.

“Why would I choose to stay with you?” Dev asked, blinking over at her. Her grin faltered slightly as she glanced from the road and over to him. “Because we’re college friends?” She asked herself more than she answered him, thinking over the logic of their plan.

“Why wouldn’t I stay with family?” Dev continued.

“They’re dead,” Magnolia stated simply with a shrug, not taking her eyes off the road as her grin appeared again since she came up with another take that seemed to fit their plan. “See, it checks out now.” She stated, not charging the way Dev’s eyes seemed to dim. His jaw tightened as he focused his eyes down at his hands, which were clenched together in his lap as he tried to keep his composure. “That won’t be too hard for me to adjust to.” He stated plainly. Magnolia glanced over at him due to his deep tone, deeper than usual. It was filled with dread and anger, although it was masked to seem like average indifference.

She blinked once she registered his words, her gaze returning back to the road. She internally cursed herself out for being so forward. She felt her heart clench as she thought it over again and again in her mind. He was so lost, in a strange world with no family. Everything was unfamiliar to him and he could barely remember how he ended up here. He was helpless. And she wasn’t making it any better.

“Well, let’s just scrap that all then.” She stated softly. “It wouldn’t make much sense for you to be in the U.S. military anyways with your accent and all.” She said, turning her head to look out of her driver-side window as she cringed again as words kept slipping out of her mouth. She didn’t mean to keep bringing up how different he was and his home but she couldn’t help it. They are coming up with his background story after all, so they don’t have to explain that he fell from the sky in some unknown object.

“We’ll just say that you’re an exchange student, in a way but still a college friend.” She began again. “You’re here to gain the full American experience, the one you didn’t really get in university since you were always on campus, and I’m your host.“ She looked over at him for any sign that she probably said something wrong again, only to be met with a simple nod from him. She subconsciously copied his actions before turning back to the road, engaging them in another moment of silence.

Magnolia wanted nothing more than to apologize. She felt that she always seemed to say the wrong things to him. She didn’t really know how to house anyone despite being the southern belle people assume she is because she bakes pastries at her friend’s cafe. So add not only a stranger but an alien, a hot alien that crashed into her backyard….She felt that she was owed the right to be a little confused and on edge.

She also couldn’t describe this strong pull she felt towards him. She felt this urge to care for him and be there to get him to open up some. Dev gave off this strong and intimidating aura, but she could see right through it with every little move he made. Granted, maybe everything she was thinking and feeling was the after-effects of the crash. It’s not every day something like that happens and it’s probably some reverse Stockholm syndrome. And it also could do with the fact that she was a decent human being and would always help another in need if she could But she hasn’t felt this sort of pull to anything or anyone besides Mufasa when she found him in the rain outside of work three years ago.

This entire situation was doing nothing for her lack of social cues and anxiety.

They rode the rest of the way to Uncle Leroy’s clinic in silence. Dev continued to observe everything around him, taking in all details he noted as worthy while Magnolia raced in what she would say next and whether or not it would lead to thoughts she didn’t want him to have.

Once they pulled into the parking lot of the clinic which was surrounded by other businesses, Magnolia stopped the car. “Follow me.” She said as she gathered her bag and then hopped out of the dark, unknowingly slamming the large metal behind her. Dev followed with no question, almost taking himself out as he tried to hurry after her and forgot he still had his seatbelt on. Magnolia turned around when she heard a soft strangled noise, but only saw Dev exit the car and quickly close the door behind him before fixing his clothes. She just simply shook her head, thinking it was nothing.

The bell above the door chimed as the pair walked in, Magnolia in front of him. He followed her to a small counter where he could see a woman sitting behind a computer, typing away. “Hey, Jess.” She looked up at the sound of the bell, offering a small smile to the familiar face of Magnolia, but doing a double take at the unfamiliar man behind her.

“Hey, Magnolia.” The woman said as she ceased her typing and once between the two. “What’s up with you today? You don’t have an appointment.”

“Oh, I know,” Magnolia stated nonchalantly. “I just need a walk-in for my—.” She paused mid-sentence as she glanced over her shoulder, expecting to find Dev in one of the available lobby seats, but was met with the sight of the man’s broad chest directly behind her. Her eyes quickly bounced up, catching his eyes when he looked down at her. “My friend. He’s new to…well, the country.” She added as she looked back over at the woman behind the desk, letting out a small laugh at the end. Dev looked back at the woman as well, giving her a polite smile. “Hello.” He said.

And it was as if the sound of his voice ignited something within the woman, causing her to let out a giggle as she looked at him. “Hi.” She grinned, not taking her eyes off of him. Dev blinked at her, his smile only faltering slightly at the woman’s odd behavior. Magnolia's brows twitched, looking at the woman who was no longer paying her any attention and cutting her eyes to the tall man next to her who seemed to be a little uncomfortable.

After flicking her questioning gaze between the two for only a few seconds longer, she cleared her throat. “Jess?” She said.

“Yeah?” Jess responded her eyes only momentarily leaving Dev’s figure to look over at Magnolia as she bit at her lip, trying to keep her grin at bay.

“We’re gonna go to my uncle's office, Kay?” She said, not even trying to set up a walk-in appointment anymore. She was going to lie and say the man knew she would be here but there was no point in any of that since the receptionist seemed more than occupied just staring at the man next to her.

“Yeah, sure.” Jess sighed, still looking at the man next to her. Magnolia blinked, trying to keep her words at bay as a sour feeling spread through her chest. She just gave the woman a sarcastic smile, not that she could even see it, before reaching back and grabbing ahold of Deb’s hand to pull him away.

Dev didn’t protest the feeling of the woman’s grip on him, only glancing down at the contact and up at the back of her head as she pulled him through the foggy glass door to their left. It was silent as she dragged him down the hall, passing rooms with doors open as waiting patients sat for a doctor and some closed as they convoluted over their meeting. Dev could feel the annoyance radiating off of her Magnolia as she led him through the hall of the small clinic. He couldn’t tell what had her angry, but by the way, she gripped his hand and the small frown he saw before she turned her back to him, she was a little ticked off.

She composed herself when they got to a wooden door near the end of one of the halls she led them through. The name ‘Dr.Jenkins’ was written on the foggy glass panel in gold ink and fancy writing. Dev watched as Magnolia took in a deep breath and then let it out, her eyes closed as she tried to gain a sense of herself back.

She then turned and looked up at him, trying not to jump back at the sight of his bright eyes already on her. “You ready?” She asked, her voice as soft as ever.

“Yes,” Dev said, giving her a single nod. Magnolia nodded herself before opening the door, not even caring to knock.

Her smile was large as she stepped into the room, Dev’s hands still in hers. “Hey, Uncle Leroy.” She said to the man behind the desk, who looked up at the sound of his door opening. The man had small, rectangular glasses sitting on the edge of his nose, looking over from the papers on his desk and over the frames to see them.

His face automatically broke out into a grin at the sight of the woman. “Hey, my little moon pie.” He said, his voice light and smooth with a scruffy undertone. He stood from the seat of his leather chair, and that’s when Magnolia finally let go of Dev’s hand, moving to meet the man halfway, around the large dark wooden desk, in a hug. Dev watched as she smiled largely as she wrapped her arms around the man, trying not to pay attention to the cold feeling that washed over him once her hand left his.

They rocked back and forth for a few seconds, savoring the embrace. They then pulled away from the hug with a breath, the older man looking down at the girl. “It’s been months.” The man began, a fond look on his face as she looked down at her. Magnolia let out a small sigh, looking aura from the man’s gaze. “The only time I hear from you is when I see you at church or work. We barely talk anymore.”

“I know, Lee, I know,” Magnolia said. “I’ve just been busy since..everything.” She said, sparing Dev a quick glance out of the corner of her eye when she paused. Dev caught on to what she was saying, but oddly enough he had a feeling she wasn’t alluding to him when she mentioned everything.

Her eyes cut to him and the man before her looked his way. The brown-skinned man's eyes scanned Dev up and down skeptically before his eyes drifted back to Magnolia only briefly. Magnolia avoided his eye, her lips pursed into an awkward smile as she gazed at Dev.

“Ah, so this is what’s kept you busy.” The man stated, before stepping around the woman. Magnolia gaped in shock at his words, tilting her head as she tried to decipher what he meant by that. Before she could question him, Leroy spoke back up, now standing before Dev. His shoulders were squared as he looked up at the taller man. Dev kept his ground, although he did shirk himself in slightly due to the man’s smaller but as well as intimidating stature. The younger man studied the older man before him, taking in his salt and pepper goatee that matched his small fro.

“And you must be?” Leroy said before holding out his hand. Dev placed his hand into his, each of their grips firm on the other. “I am Dev-Em, sir.” He answered. Magnolia silently winded when he said his name but quickly fixed it when Leroy furrowed his brows and glanced over at her. “Dev-Em?” He repeated back to the man, his tone giving way to his confusion.

“Deven!” Magnolia yelped, causing both men to look over at her. “Deven, you have to say your full name, silly.” She quickly added, letting out a nervous laugh as she eased her way over to stand back next to the new man in her life. Her smile was strained on her face and she hoped the facade wasn’t obvious as she placed her hand on Dev’s bicep. “Sorry about him, he’s getting used to the whole Southern Hospitality thing.” She said to Leroy as she glanced between him and the man she stood next to. Dev was confused by the ordeal taking place before him but just went with whatever the short woman next to him said. That is what she said in the car on the way over and he was following her orders.

“His name is Deven Embrose. He’s from the United Kingdom. It’s, like, a lil nickname thing they do over there.” She finished, her hand still connected to Dev’s skin, to which she gave a small pat.

Leroy nodded, placing his hands in his pockets as he gave the tall man another once over. “So I heard.” He said, giving a lowly gesture to his mouth as she referred to the other man’s accent. “I’ve met a few men from across the pond in my day.” He nodded. Magnolia let out another bout of anxious laughter, unknowingly leaning into Dev’s side more. Neither of them seemed to pay attention to the touch she was applying, but Leroy did glance between them suspiciously.

“Anyways!” Magnolia was quick to inject before more questions about Dev’s past could be asked. “I’m here because he needs a check-up.”

“A check-up?” The older man asked. “Why? What happened?” He questioned.

“Oh, nothing much.” Magnolia shrugged. “There was just…a tumble that..occurred.” She explained as nonchalantly as she could, making up a lie on the spot. Leroy furrowed his brows again, his eye dating between the close pair. His suspicions were loud and clear within his gaze, especially in the way he eyed the random man who was with someone he considered a daughter.

“A tumble?” He echoed.

“Yup,” Magnolia said. “It happened when we were moving his things in. He fell down the stairs with a large box in his hands.”

“Fell down the stairs?” Leroy questioned in shock, his eyes moving across the young man before him to gauge any serious wounds on him at such a serious incident. Magnolia was quick to interject his scurrying mind. “Not down all of the stairs! It was just a small tumble down, like, the bottom five. Right, Dev?”

“Yes.” The man replied with a firm nod.

It was silent for a moment, the younger duo standing close as they waited for the older man to speak.

Leroy just nodded, completely unsure and a little stunned by whatever was going in before him. He just subtly shook his head as he blinked. “Okay, well why don’t we just go to one of the available rooms and get this checkup started.” He said with a small grin. Magnolia nodded as she moved out of the way for Leroy to walk through and led them to the room.

Once he was out, Dev looked down at the woman who made her way out of the door before him.

“You’re..bad at this.” He murmured. Magnolia shot a look at him over her shoulder, taken back by his audacity. “What?” She said but didn’t have any time to respond before she stopped outside of the room Leroy did.

He clicked the lights on and gestured them into the space. “Have a seat.” He said as he moved over to the counters that held tons of average-grade medical equipment. The sound of rubber stretching echoed within the small room as Dev sat on the leather seat of the operation chair. The chair was pretty large but the big man that sat in it made it seem like it was made for his form. Magnolia stood near the chair, her stature putting her at the perfect height so that she didn’t have to crane her head to see Dev’s face clearly.

Her lips were pursed as Leroy turned around with gloves now on his hands and his stethoscope out of his white coat.

“Okay, now why don’t you just take a deep breath in for me.” He said as he stepped over, placing the bell of the tool on Dev’s chest. Dev did as he said, his chest lifting outwards. “Now, release.” Dev followed his instructions, breathing out. Leroy just let out a small hum before taking the tool out of his ear and hanging it on his neck. He then took out a pen-like flashlight from his coat pocket and clicked it on.

Magnolia stood off to the side, watching the whole produce as Leroy foaled the small light into Dev’s eyes, who flowed a little upon impact but did as the man instructed about where to look. Leroy stood with another hum, pocketing the pen. “Everything looks fine to me. I’d just need to run a few more tests before you can head out. Let me alert one of my nurses.” He said before stepping out briefly.

He came back only seconds later. “So, Deven.” He began in a questioning tone as he began to switch out his gloves. His cadence caused Magnolia to throw her back as she released a silent groan, her movement catching Dev’s attention. He furrowed his brows at her as he watched her go back to normal when Leroy turned back around. “What do you do?” He asked.

“Military, sir.” He stated, his eyes briefly jumping to the woman next to him, making sure he remembered their small conversation from the car. Magnolia’s brows twitched as she tried to keep them from peaking since she wasn’t all too sure if they had scrapped the whole military story in the car or not. She could’ve sworn they decided not to go with that idea. And while she was having a mini internal freakout, Leroy just nodded. “What branch?”

“The Navy.” Magnolia was quick to add since she was certain most of this wasn’t covered in their small conversation from the car ride over. “Marines, more specifically.” She nodded.

“But why are you here? In America?” The old man continued to question, not paying much mind to her interjection this time.

“I got injured.” Dev was quick to respond, taking the woman who had eased her way next to him aback. “It wasn’t severe but it caused a lot of physiological trauma so I retired. I also wanted a change of scenery and Magnolia offered to house an old friend.” He explained. Leroy’s stare was stagnant, never wavering from the man as he listened to his story. Magnolia was still quite shocked. Not only at his quick thinking but also the way her stomach fluttered at hearing the sound of her mane on his lips for the first time.

“Okay,” Leroy said. The pair just blinked at him.

“Okay?” Magnolia replied, her tone slightly questioning. “That’s it?” She asked. Leroy just nodded. “Yeah. I’ve known you a long time, so I know how careful you are. Plus, you’re a grown woman. I’m not gonna ask too many questions.” He stated. Magnolia just nodded, and she honestly didn't think she had it in her to be shocked by anything anymore. If anything, the last 24 hours have proved anything is possible.

“But I still do have to run these tests.” He said as he glanced down at his watch, just time for a nurse to push in the machine that would check his vitals and blood pressure.

It didn’t take them long before they were out of the door.

“That was stressful.” Magnolia sighed, her shoulder slightly slumped as she walked before Dev as the pair made their way back to the lobby, Leroy absent since he had an actual patients waiting on him. “I’m stressed. I need something sweet.” She groaned. She then glanced back over at the tall man behind her. “You want something sweet. Ya’ like ice cream? I could go for some ice cream.” She rambled as she opened the door that looked like the one they walked into earlier, however, this door led them out on the opposite side of where they walked into, to the right of the receptionist's desk.

“I do not know what that is,” Dev stated. Magnolia paused and turned to him, just staring at him as she tried to gauge any sight of a lie within his gaze. Seeing the plain look the man was giving her, just staring into her eyes with no questions asked, she then broke out into a grin. “Oh, Dev, sweetie, I have so much to show you.” She said, her soft southern drawl almost luring him into a trance as she placed her hand on his arm, subconsciously rubbing her thumb against his skin.

It was however broken by the sound of someone speaking.

“Hey.”

The pair both looked over at the sound of Jess’s voice, the woman’s eyes trained solely on the man in front of her. She stood from her chair, showing her dark purple scrubs as she leaned forward to the tall counter and pushed over a small card. “It’s for you.” She said, a sultry grin on her face as she didn’t hide the way she eyed the man before her. Dev’s brows spiked a little in interest, the man reaching over and picking up the small piece of paper to see it held an odd series of numbers.

Magnolia tried her best to hide the frown that began at her brows as she watched, her eyes jumping between the ever-stoic Dev and the thirsty receptionist, Jess. She didn’t know why, but she got this sour tang in the back of her throat at the sight of Jess’s obvious flirting. Whether it was the way she didn’t care to even ask more about Dev before throwing herself at him or the fact that she was doing this all on the clock, hell, even the possibility that she and Dev could be together. She couldn’t care less about the specifics when this woman was obviously throwing herself at him right in front of her.

Dev blinked at the small card before looking back up at her. “Thanks.” He said, no smile, not even a nod. He just held the white card stock up in acknowledgment. Magnolia softly scoffed before quickly turning on her heels and strutting out of the clinic, her bunch of curly hair swinging on the top of her head. Dev was quick to follow her, not even sparing the woman behind him a glance as she tried to keep up with the only thing he knew in his new life.

The bell above the door chimed as they exited the clinic, entering the blazing sun shining down on them even from under the awning. Dev could feel a source of every course through his veins as he stood in the light but didn’t have time to focus on it before he felt the small card be ripped from his hands. He watched as Magnolia ripped the paper into pieces and then pocketed the scraps. She then pulled her keys from her purse, all in silence as Dev simply watched her.

Due to the pause in the atmosphere, she looked up once she held her keys to her truck to see the man staring at her. “What? I don’t litter.” She said before turning from him and walking over to her truck.

Dev followed behind her as usual, getting inside the odd contraption as he did before. “What was that she’d given me?” He asked as he copied the way to put on the seatbelt from watching her, glancing back now and then to see if it was correct.

“Her phone number.” She replied.

“What’s that?”

“It’s the way we communicate here without being face to face. We write letters as well but that takes too long. But then again, we also have electronic letters such as emails and text, so, I don’t know.” She shrugged, her tone flat as she started the car and began to pull out. Dev nodded, taking in what she said at face value since she didn't seem too in the mood to offer more context. Something both of them didn't bother to question.

“Why did she give me her number? Aren’t you her friend?”

Magnolia scoffed, glancing over at him. “Hell no, I’m just nice to her because it’s the right thing to do. She’s just doing her job and she works for my uncle.” She shrugged again. “And she gave you her number because she don’t want nothing but to get in the drawls.” She scoffed again, her tone bridging in pissed as she gripped the steering wheel.

“What?” Dev asked full-on confusion written across his face as he looked at her, not even focused on his task of gaining information by observing his surroundings. Magnolia paused, glancing over at him to see the look he was giving her. “She wanted nothing more than to just sleep with you, Dev.” She said bluntly. “That’s why she gave you her number. So you could call, talk, flirt a little, go out, and then hook up.” She explained as if it was obvious. Dev understood most of what she was saying, but he was still sort of lost on some parts.

“Hook up? What is that, how do you hook up?” He questioned.

“Sex.” She stated. “Hooking up is sex. Mating. The act most things do to reproduce offspring.” For some reason, she had no trouble explaining such things to him. Even though it was sort of awkward because she never really had to have “The Talk”™️ ever in her life, especially with a grown man, and with the way he was staring at her so intensely. But it seemed to just flow out. This conversation would probably be their easiest because every culture and race had to have sex…right? That’s how they had to reproduce?

“Ahh.” Dev nodded once he understood what it all meant. He then frowned, as if thinking over it all now. “She wanted to mate with me? We wouldn’t even be compatible. Her genetic makeup doesn’t offer anything to mine.” He said. Magnolia squinted her eyes in thought, blinking as she registered the way he stated that in her mind. She opened her mouth to respond but came out saying nothing.

“Hey, the check-up wasn’t so bad, was it?” She chimed in after a moment of silence. Dev glanced back over at her, giving a silent nod before realizing she probably couldn’t see him. “It went well. Odd, but well.” He said. “You’re terrible at lying on the spot, though.” He added.

Magnolia opened her mouth to say something snarky at his comment, but could only let out a small sigh. “Yeah, I know. I get nervous when being put on the spot.”

“Your uncle is an interesting character.”

“Yeah, he gets that a lot. I say he’s a little nosy but he likes to call it cautious. My grandma used to blame his age but he’s been like that my whole life and I’m almost thirty.” She told, a fond grin making its way into her face as memories began to flash in her mind. Memories filled with the family she used to have and the good times she always thought of before closing her eyes at night for a good night's rest.

Dev could sense the newfound softness in her voice at the mention of her grandmother. He stared at her, watching the subtle smile grace her lips as she zoned off within the hum of the road. He wanted to question more about what seemed to be the connection between the old man and her but could tell it was a sensitive subject by every mention of her. That and whatever that small conversation between her and Leroy was before his presence was made known.

“So, you wanna try some ice cream or what?” She suddenly asked, glancing over at him. Dev simply nodded, causing her to grin as she drove to the perfect spot.

────୨ৎ────

Before he could even get to observe his surroundings, they out of the car and walking into another establishment that had a lot of windows. The bell above the door chimed again, causing him to look up. “Another bell. Why the bell?” He asked, following closely behind the woman as his senses became invaded with a plethora of smells and sounds. He blinked frantically with a small frown, trying to clear his mind of the loud noise that surrounded him.

“It alerts the staff that new customers have arrived.” He heard Magnolia’s voice speak over the chaos, and it was as if that was all he needed to snap back in. Honing in on the sound of her voice caused the other sounds around him to come to a halt, to the point where he didn’t even hear them anymore. “It gets annoying but diners tend to keep that traditional vibe for some reason.” She finished with a shrug. She gave the person behind the counter a large smile with a wave before moving her way through the diner.

The pair passed countless booths that held a variety of people, from kids who were full of sugar and agitating their parents to groups of teens who gossiped around the small devices in their hands. Dev looked around at it all while it seemed that Magnolia led them somewhere she wanted to go since some of the tables they passed were empty.

He stopped, watching her drop herself into a booth by the window, scooting in the middle of the seat. Dev followed suit, watching as she pulled the large menus from the little folder stand next to her and handed him one.

He copied her actions, looking at the variety of names in the list before him. Some held small pictures of the food next to its name, but majority of the list he had no idea what was. Except water and he wasn’t quite sure why that was on the menu since it held no price next to it.

“I have no idea what any of this is.” He spoke as he placed the menu down on the table with a little force, sort of fed up with being utterly confused by most of everything around him. Magnolia hummed, placing her menu down as well with a nod. “I figured. Are you hungry?” She asked.

“No.” He shook his head innocently, staring at her. “I ate quite a bit this morning.” Magnolia let out a small chuckle at his words. “Boy, don’t I know it. I’m gonna have to go grocery shopping this week. I mean, I know I cooked it all but usually I have leftovers.” She said. Dev looked down, his eyes darting to his hands on the table. He couldn’t help but feel a little bad at that. That he was invading her space.

Magnolia’s smile faded slightly. She reached her arm across the table, placing her smaller hand atop his large ones. “Hey,” She said in a soft tone. She tilted her head down just as he looked up at her call, connecting his bright-colored eyes with hers. “I’m just pokin’ fun.” She stated with a mere grin. “I’m happy to have you in my home. I know have someone who can respond to the nonsense that I say.” She chided, causing him to let out a small chortle.

“You do talk a lot.” He stated nonchalantly. Magnolia blinked at his words. “Okay, ouch.” She said, but her smile was still there to let her know she wasn’t actually hurt by his words. Their small bonding moment was then interrupted by the sound of a voice coming up to them.

“Who comes to work on their day off?” The smooth voice of a familiar man spoke up, causing the pair to look over. A large smile instantly broke out into Magnolia’s features while she looked up at the man who made his way over to them, her hand unknowingly sifting away from Dev’s, that cold feeling enveloping him again just as it did at Leroy’s clinic.

“Someone who loves their job,” Magnolia said, looking up at him as he stopped in front of their table. The man rolled his eyes at her, pulling a notepad out of his coat jacket. “Yeah, whatever, kiss-ass. You just got a raise out of me. You’re not getting another this soon.” He said as he flipped the pad and pen in his hands.

“Oh, you’ll know when I’m kissing ass, G.” She said, causing them both to let out a small laugh. The man’s gaze then drifted to Dev, who eyed the obviously familiar pair with a subtly arched brow. The stranger held out his hand, his gold watch peaking from underneath the expensive brown suit he had on, the man standing out against the rest of the diner. “Giorgio Clarance, nice to meet you.” He introduced himself.

Dev placed his hand into his, both of their grips firm as they stared at one another. “Deven Embrose.” He said, speaking the name Magnolia made up earlier. It felt weird coming off of his tongue, unnatural. He just hoped Giorgio couldn’t tell.

The overdressed man hummed at his words. “Around the way type of guy, I see.” He said with a nod. “Cool.” He stated simply, giving the man a plain once over before directing his attention back to Magnolia. Dev furrowed his brows at the man’s dismissal of him, one that was a little hostile with the look he was just given. He tried not to read much into it, but he couldn’t help but question if he felt that Giorgio was throwing at him.

“He’s my boss,” Magnolia spoke up, seeing the questioning look on Dev’s face, thinking that’s what he was questioning. “He owns this place.”

“And others,” Giorgio added with a smirk.

“And others,” Magnolia repeated in a stupid tone, playfully rolling her eyes at him. Dev's eyes jumped between them. He nodded at what Magnolia told him “I’m a chef. Well, a baker.” She stated. Dev's eyes gleamed at that, and he was about to say something to her about her occupation before Giorgio cut in.

“A Chef.” He retorted firmly, looking down at her with a small frown. “What did I tell you about cutting yourself short? You are a chef.” He said, and Magnolia softly rolled her eyes at him again, looking down at her hands, though she couldn’t hide the soft smile on her face at his words.

“All I know how to really do is bake.” She said softly, looking up at Dev as if she was answering him. He could only offer her a polite smile back before her eyes drifted away and toward the man who stood next to them.

“You make amazing pastries for two a five start restaurants.” At this point, he had leaned down, slightly holding his weight on the table with his hands so he could be closer to Magnolia. Magnolia looked him in the eye, her face as neutral as it could be due to his praise. As if this proximity for them was normal as if they did this all the time and were fine. Dev, on the other hand, was not fine. He raised his hands from the table, leaning his back against the cushion leather seat of the booth. His brows twitched into a frown, staring the at side of the man’s head as his view of Magnolia was almost blocked. Almost.

“In the diner, you may be the baker, but at Augusto’s Chevalier, you’re a chef.” He explained, never once taking his eyes off the woman next to him. “You think they differentiate all that back there in that kitchen?” Magnolia squinted her eyes at him with a slight tilt of her head.

“They literally do?…in every kitchen.” She said, understanding the point her good friend was trying to make but also not seeing how a restaurant business mogul didn’t know such a thing.

“Yeah, whatever.” He said with a shrug as he waved her off playfully.

She rolled her eyes at him again. “Are you gonna take our order or not Mr. Hotshot?” She asked with a playful smirk, looking at the man decked in a nice suit and gold jewelry whose face stood only a few feet away from hers. She caught sight of Dev’s bright eyes next to his briefly, staring at her intensely. She felt a chill run down her spine at the gaze, but her eyes never directly met his.

“No, actually. I just came to speak.” He said to her with a small smile. He then turned his head, giving the man next to them a sideways glance and another once-over. He let out a dry chortle that was barely audible before rising from his relaxed position to stand fully. “This is just for show.” He said, gesturing to the pen and paper he’d gathered from his large blazer.

“Good, because we’re not even ready to order,” Magnolia said. Giorgio just hummed with a nod, giving her face one last good look. “It was nice seeing you, Magnolia.” He practically purred, his eyes trained on her face. Magnolia nodded at his words. “It was nice seeing you again too, G.” She said, giving him a soft smile. Giorgio couldn’t help but smile at the name, his perfect teeth showing as he looked at her, gleaming in contrast to his chocolate skin. He blinked before his gaze drifted to the other man at the booth. He nodded his head down at Dev before walking away from them, passing by Magnolia.

Dev sat there, watching the man leave their table. He didn’t even offer a nod back to Giorgio. He just stayed in place, a stone-cold look on his face, even when Giorgio glanced back at Magnolia with a smirk, said woman eyeing the menu. His eyes drifted to Dev’s, his grin turning more sinister before leaving his eyesight.

“Not gonna lie, I could go for a butter pecan.” He was snapped out of his trance at the sound of the woman mumbling to herself. “I’m definitely getting up there because I used to hate that shit.” She let out a small chortle of herself. Dev’s gaze moved across her form, not speaking as he continued to think about the interaction between Giorgio and Magnolia. “I never had pistachio, maybe I should try that.” She said, continuing her search, unbeknownst of the watching eyes she had on her.

She then looked up, slightly shaken to see the man’s gaze on her already but didn’t speak on it. “I’m gonna start you off simple with a waffle cone and some chocolate ice cream. I know vanilla is more basic, but I said simple, not plain.” She stated, waving her finger about as she explained the rundown to him, her abundance of jewelry clinging about. “But don’t get me wrong, I love a good vanilla. Especially a homemade one? Tuh! Word around town is your girls makes the best.”

“I think Giorgio wants to hook up with you.”

Magnolia’s head jerked back at Dev’s statement as her smile dropped. “What?” Her face contorted between confusion and disgust but also a little bit of intrigue as she tried to gather what Dev saw. “No, I’m positive he does not.” She said, letting out a nervous laugh at what her newfound friend said.

“He was acting a little like Jess.” Dev continued, not taking his eyes away from the woman in front of him. “Just a little different.”

“That’s just how we interact here.” She said softly, sitting forward more in her seat to lean closer to him as she began to explain. “He’s technically my boss and I’m his worker. In today’s time, to create a more healthy work environment, bosses tend to be friendly to their staff so what they’re doing isn’t considered slave labor.” She said letting out a small chuckle. “That and so their bond is somewhat like a work family and that there’s a trust put into everything said company produces.” She explained. She then worked her head, looking him in the eye. “We’re just friends.” She said softly. “Barely even that, we’ve never even gone out for a beverage.”

“He looks at you a lot,” Dev continued to comment, his face still the same even though this warm feeling spread through him at the way she was gazing at him over the table. He had subconsciously leaned forward in his seat and against the table, the pair sitting closer to one another.

“That’s what we do here. Eye contact is expected in most settings.” She said, her eyes stuck on his. They were practically whispering now, faces sort of close as they leaned across the table. “I mean, look at us now. I look at you, you look at me.”

“That is because we are having a conversation.”

“Were me and Giorgio not having a conversation?”

“Yes, but even when you weren’t looking at him, he was looking at you. Everywhere.”

“You look at me all the time.” Magnolia was quick to add to their small and somewhat silent argument, ignoring the last part about Giorgio’s eyes drifting over her figure when she wasn’t looking.

“I am observing because I am new here. What’s his excuse?” Dev added with a small tilt of his head. Magnolia let up a quick gasp at his words, looking him up and down. “Oh, you’re a little sassy when you want to be.” She said with a playful grin. Dev’s face stayed stoic, causing her to let out a small laugh. “Dev, relax and pick out an ice cream door before it gets dark out.” She said, jerking her head out of the window at the cloud-covered sun. “I hate driving in the dark.” She said softly before going back to her menu.

Dev blinked at her before looking down at his menu in front of him, both still leaned forward on the table as they observed what they were going to have.

His mind was clouded, full of questions and thoughts regarding not only the ones Ms out of his new life, it whatever was going on between Giorgio and Magnolia. Dev was no stranger to emotions, as oddly as he acted about them. He’d never really felt such staring emotions about anyone, not even his intended, but he’s seen those who have. And he could see that there were feelings between the two, even if it was one-sided. And something was telling him that Giorgio was the one that fancied her more, which caused this acidic feeling to enter the back of his throat and made his face want to contort into a scowl.

Giorgio rubbed him the wrong way and it’s not just because he’s into Magnolia. Although, Dev wasn’t quite sure why that last part bothered him more.

Magnolia on the other hand was simply a little confused. This had been the first time anyone had ever told her such a thing about her and Giorgio. Although they weren’t friends who went out anywhere, they’ve been around and conversed with others, and nothing of the sort has ever come up. She didn’t know what Dev saw, or if she could even trust his judgment since he was new to earth and e everything.

What bothered her most was that she wasn’t sure if she disliked the thought of Giorgio liking her. It was her boss after all and that wouldn’t be good for business, so she was more than likely never going to outside anything, but she couldn’t deny that he was an attractive man. A wealthy attractive man with a Brooklyn accent that dressed well. To Magnolia, he was a city boy through and through, and that intrigued her southern little behind. He was no blue-collar man, but she wasn’t picky and didn’t necessarily have a type. She was just used to one thing. All that to say is it were true, she wouldn’t mind hopping on the ride.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by Dev’s speaking.

“I don’t want to hook up with Jess either.” He said, causing her to look and connect their eyes. “Ever.” He finished. Magnolia blinked in confusion before simply nodding. “Okay.” She said before looking back down at her menu. Dev frowned, looking at the top of her head.

“And you don’t want to hook up with Giorgio, right?” He questioned. Magnolia let out a small laugh before looking back up at him. “No, I do not, Dev.” She said softly, looking into his eyes, which were now a soft green. Even though she sort of contradicted her previous thoughts, she was telling the truth, she didn’t necessarily want to hook up with him. Dev’s eyes jumped between hers, trying to see if he could almost sense a lie from her. He then blinked with a nod. “Good.” He said, looking at her intensely before going back to his menu. Magnolia frowned in confusion at him in what he meant by that but was cut off by Dev speaking again.

“When do we get this ice cream? Where is it coming from?” He asked, looking over his shoulder as he observed the thing in the diner. Magnolia pursed her lips, watching him.

“There's so much you have to learn, honeybun, so when we get home, we’re watching movies.” She said. “There’s only so much I can do for you, sweet pea.” She said as she shook her head with a sad smile.

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goldfades · 3 months ago

Note

Devin Booker angst… maybe some commitment/trust angst because of past ex cheating fallout. Good ending but deffff some angst 🫠

Another one… birthday planning for Devin. Simple for a simple man.

im gonna do the angsty one just cause i love me some good angst :) ALSO THIS IS ACTUALLY SO ANGSTY but has a happy ending!!! so be warned!!

There were things Devin never talked about.

Not because he couldn’t—but because he wouldn’t.

He had learned, a long time ago, that some things were easier left unsaid. That silence was its own kind of armor, that keeping certain thoughts locked away meant they couldn’t be used against you.

And for the most part, it worked.

Until you.

Until this.

Lately, it felt like something was slipping through the cracks. Like the space between you was stretching wider and wider, pulling taut, waiting to snap.

You felt it. He knew you did.

It was in the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. The way your fingers hesitated before reaching for him, like you weren’t sure if he’d let you in or pull away.

The way you kept asking—softly, cautiously—if everything was okay.

And the way he kept saying yes, even when it wasn’t.

Because the truth was, Devin didn’t know how to talk about it.

Didn’t know how to put into words the way trust felt like something fragile in his hands, like something that could be taken from him just as easily as it had been given.

Didn’t know how to explain that every time you went out without him, every time your phone buzzed late at night, every time he saw you laugh a little too freely at something another man said—his mind went there.

Not because he thought you would hurt him.

But because someone else already had.

And the worst part?

He hated himself for it.

For doubting. For overthinking. For feeling like he was ruining something good before it could even turn bad.

But no matter how hard he tried to push it down, to pretend like it wasn’t eating at him—the feeling stayed.

And you?

You were waiting.

For him to say something.

For him to let you in.

For him to decide whether this was something worth fighting for, or something he was too afraid to hold.

The thing about trust was that it didn’t just exist. It wasn’t something you could hold in your hands, something tangible and solid, something you could tuck away and know it would stay right where you left it.

No—trust was something you had to build. Something you had to choose, over and over again.

And Devin wasn’t sure if he knew how.

Not after what happened before. Not after the late-night lies, the gut feeling he ignored for too long, the hollow apologies that didn’t mean a damn thing. Not after the way he found out, after the way he swore he wouldn’t let it happen again.

And now?

Now he was here. With you. And every time he felt himself settling in, every time he felt that quiet, terrifying kind of peace that came with loving someone the way he loved you—he felt the fear creep in, too.

Because what if he was stupid again?

What if he let himself believe in something real, only to have it slip through his fingers?

What if—

“Dev,” your voice was soft, hesitant, pulling him out of his head.

He hadn’t even realized how quiet he had gotten, how long he had been sitting there, staring at nothing while you watched him from across the room.

He blinked, forcing himself to look at you.

You were standing near the kitchen, arms crossed over your chest, the kind of tension in your shoulders that made it clear you felt it too.

The shift.

The distance.

The space that had been growing between you for weeks now.

You chewed on your bottom lip before exhaling, taking a step closer. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

His jaw tightened. “Nothing’s going on.”

Your eyes flickered with frustration. “Don’t do that.”

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Do what?”

“Shut down on me,” you said, voice quieter now. “Act like I can’t see when something’s wrong.”

Devin leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before letting out a slow breath. “It’s not that easy.”

Your brows furrowed. “What’s not?”

He hesitated, his fingers twitching slightly against his knee. He wanted to tell you. He did.

But the words wouldn’t come.

So instead, he shook his head, letting out a humorless chuckle. “Forget it.”

You were quiet for a beat. Then—

“Do you still trust me?”

His eyes snapped to yours.

Your voice wasn’t accusing. It wasn’t angry. Just... tired.

Tired of the guessing. Tired of waiting for him to let you in.

His throat felt tight. “It’s not about that.”

You gave a hollow laugh. “That’s not an answer.”

Devin ran a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose. He could feel how badly you wanted the truth. But how was he supposed to say it? How was he supposed to admit that he did trust you, but his mind kept fighting him on it? That no matter how much he knew you weren’t the same, that you would never do that to him, his brain still found ways to convince him otherwise?

That it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the parts of himself he hadn’t figured out how to fix yet?

So instead, he said nothing.

And that silence was louder than anything else.

You inhaled sharply, blinking hard like you were trying to keep something at bay, before nodding once. “Okay.”

He frowned, the word settling uneasily in his chest. “What does that mean?”

You let out a breath, gripping the edge of the counter. “It means I can’t keep doing this.”

His stomach twisted. “Doing what?”

“This,” you said, gesturing between you two. “Walking on eggshells. Waiting for the next time you decide to pull away. Feeling like I have to prove something that I haven’t even done.”

Guilt spread through his chest, slow and suffocating. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

“I know.” You swallowed, shaking your head slightly. “But that’s what’s happening.”

He didn’t know what to say to that.

Because you weren’t wrong.

You let out a slow breath, crossing your arms tighter over your chest. “I love you, Devin.”

His throat tightened. “I know.”

“And I’ve been patient,” you continued, voice softer now. “I’ve given you space, I’ve let you take your time, I’ve let you deal with whatever’s in your head the way you needed to.”

You met his gaze, eyes searching his like you were trying to find him, to reach whatever part of him had been locked away all this time.

“But at some point, you have to decide if you trust me enough to let me in.”

The words hit him square in the chest.

Because you were right.

He knew you were right.

And yet—

“I don’t know how,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You exhaled slowly, nodding, like you had already known the answer before he said it out loud.

And that was the worst part.

Because the way you nodded, the way your eyes softened just slightly—it wasn’t relief. It wasn’t the kind of understanding that meant things would be okay.

It was acceptance.

Like you were realizing, maybe for the first time, that loving him might not be enough.

The silence between you stretched, thick and suffocating, until finally, you turned toward the hallway.

“I’m gonna go to bed.”

He didn’t stop you.

Didn’t reach for you.

Didn’t say the words he should have said.

And as he listened to the sound of your footsteps fading down the hall, the weight of everything he hadn’t said pressed down on his chest, heavier than ever.

Because the thing about trust?

It didn’t just exist.

And if you weren’t careful, if you let it slip away too many times—

You might wake up one day and realize you lost it before you ever had the chance to hold it.

Devin didn’t sleep that night.

He laid there, staring at the ceiling, the weight of your words pressing down on him like an anchor. He could hear the quiet rustle of sheets from the other room, the space between you feeling impossibly wide even though you were just on the other side of the wall.

This wasn’t like your usual arguments—the ones that ended with you stealing his hoodie and curling into his chest like it never happened. This felt different. More final. Like you had already made up your mind about something he wasn’t ready to face yet.

And maybe it was selfish—maybe it was stupid—but he didn’t want to lose you.

Didn’t want to watch you walk away just because he couldn’t figure out how to fix the parts of himself that someone else had broken.

So, at some point in the early hours of the morning, when the world was still quiet and the weight of everything felt too heavy to carry on his own—he got up.

The floor was cold beneath his feet as he made his way toward the bedroom, hesitating just outside the door. It was cracked open, just enough for him to see the rise and fall of your shoulders beneath the blanket.

For a second, he thought about turning around. Thought about waiting until morning, or pretending like this conversation never happened at all.

But he knew that wouldn’t work anymore.

So, instead, he stepped inside, slow and cautious, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed.

He stood by the bed for a moment, watching the way your breathing stayed even, your body curled just slightly away from him. He wondered if you were still awake. If you had been waiting for him to come to you, or if you had already started to let go.

The thought made his chest ache.

Quietly, he sat down on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing against the sheets. “You up?”

You didn’t say anything at first, but then—

“Yeah.”

Your voice was hoarse, like you had been holding something in for too long.

Devin swallowed hard. He wasn’t good at this part. At saying the things that mattered.

But he was trying.

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

A beat of silence. Then, you let out a slow breath, shifting slightly so you could look at him. “I don’t want to lose you either, Dev.”

His jaw tensed, his fingers twitching against the blanket. “Then why does it feel like I’m pushing you away?”

You let out a soft, tired laugh. “Because you are.”

He exhaled, pressing his palms against his face for a moment before dragging them down. “I don’t mean to.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But it’s still happening.”

Devin stayed quiet, staring down at the blanket between you. He wasn’t used to feeling this vulnerable. Wasn’t used to letting his thoughts spill out before he had the chance to shove them back down.

But if there was anyone he could say this to—it was you.

So, after a long pause, he finally admitted, “I don’t know how to let go of it.”

You furrowed your brows. “Let go of what?”

He swallowed hard, eyes flicking up to yours before dropping again. “The past.”

It was the first time he had actually said it. The first time he had admitted, out loud, that everything he was struggling with had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the shit that came before.

The betrayal. The late-night fights. The way he found out through someone else instead of hearing it from her.

The way it had made him question everything—including himself.

You were quiet for a long moment, like you were waiting to see if he would say more. When he didn’t, you sighed, shifting so you were sitting up against the headboard.

“I’m not her, Devin.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” you asked, voice softer now. “Because it feels like I’m paying for someone else’s mistakes.”

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is,” you countered gently. “I love you. And I would never—never—do that to you.”

He let your words settle, rolling them over in his mind, trying to let them sink in deeper than the fear that had taken root there.

But old wounds had a way of staying open, even when you thought they were healed.

“I just—” He shook his head, struggling for the right words. “I don’t know how to trust that.”

You blinked, looking down at your hands for a moment before nodding slowly. “Then let me show you.”

His brows pulled together. “How?”

You reached out then, tentative but firm, your fingers brushing against his wrist. “By letting me in,” you said simply. “By letting me love you without you waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Devin stared at you, his throat tight, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Because that was the real issue, wasn’t it?

He wasn’t afraid of being lied to.

He was afraid of believing in something good and watching it fall apart anyway.

But he was starting to realize—he had two choices.

He could keep pushing you away, keep letting the past dictate the way he held onto the present.

Or he could choose you.

Choose to believe in what you had.

Choose to trust that this time, it was real.

So, he made a decision.

Slowly, hesitantly, he shifted toward you, resting his forehead against yours, his fingers curling around your wrist. “I’m trying,” he murmured.

You exhaled, your free hand sliding up to cup his cheek. “That’s all I need.”

For the first time in weeks, Devin felt like he could breathe.

He wasn’t perfect. He had his shit, and there would be days where the doubt crept in, where the past threatened to pull him under.

But he wasn’t alone.

And that?

That was enough.

#devin booker #devin booker x reader #devin booker fic #devin booker imagine #nba x reader

137 notes · View notes

llovelylove · 2 months ago

Text

█▓▒▒░░░“You look good on camera, baby. Let’s go make a film?”░░░▒▒▓█

୨⎯series ⎯୧

PT. 1 Levi Ackerman

PT. 2 Eren Yeager

PT. 3 Armin Arlert

PT. 4 Jean Kirstein

PT. 5 Connie Springer

PT. 6 Porco Galliard

[NOTE]

—I was watching SATC and this came to me. Basically the premise is making a sex tape w/ AOT boys. I’m making this into a mini series, one for each boy, so six one shots or short stories. Enjoy!!

(Sex, Filming sex, dirty talk, age gap, porno)

⋆˚࿔ Levi. A 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

It was a late night, coming over to professor Levi’s house. He was always sarcastic and a little rude but so lovable. Sitting on his couch as he typed on his laptop, Y/N smiled at him and put her phone down.

She crawled over and took his laptop out of his hands, putting it on the glass table.

Levi's eyes narrow as she take his laptop, his normal scowl playing on his lips despite himself. "Mhm? Can't I at least finish this email before my girlfriend decides she needs my attention?" His hands move to her waist automatically.

"Don't you have essays to write?" He pulls her closer, one eyebrow quirking up slightly as he adjusts his glasses. "And stop crawling around like a cat. You'll ruin those cute pajamas." Despite his words, his voice is gentle, almost concerned about the outfit she's wearing.

“You look like Albert Eienstien with these on.” She laughed softly as she straddled his lap fully. He removes his glasses, setting them aside as he turns to face her fully.

"Y/N, stop moving around." He groans slightly as she settles on his lap, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist. "You're going to make me lose focus." His eyes flicker down to her cute pajamas, pink silk matching Victoria secret set. A lacy tank top and shorts.

“Levi.” She said with raised brows as she stared at him, trying to look serious.

“Mhm?” He tilts his head slightly, his scowl softening as he looks at her. His large hands rest on her hips, thumbs gently caressing her skin.

"What are those puppy eyes for? I'm not giving you money for shopping this time." Despite his words, his grip on her hips tightens possessively. "And stop biting your lip like that." He adjusts his seating position slightly, making her lean more against his chest.

“That’s not what I’m asking.” She scoffed at him and adjusted herself on his lap slightly. “It’s something different.”

"Like what?" He asks softly, his scowl returning slightly as he studies her expression. His fingers drum on her lower back unconsciously. "You're being too quiet. Do I need to prepare for something?" He half jokes, his eyes crinkling at the corners slightly.

She shifted slightly closer to him, her hands resting on his shoulders. "I was wondering..." She trailed off mischievously. “What are your thoughts on porn?”

Levi blinks slowly, staring at her for a moment before bursting out laughing. The deep sound fills the room, his head thrown back slightly. "Are you kidding me right now?" He asks between chuckles, his hands tightening on her hips. "Porn?"

"Where the hell did that come from?" His eyes narrow playfully as he adjusts her position on his lap again, pulling her closer. "And what makes you think I even watch it?" He tries to keep a serious expression but fails miserably.

She giggled at his reaction and shrugged innocently. “Doesn’t every guy watch it? I mean you’re a guy right?” She teased him playfully. “So?” She asked curiously. “Do you watch it or not?”

Levi's cheeks flush slightly at her teasing, his usual scowl replaced with a small, rare smile. "Well, I'm not going to deny it." He admits quietly, leaning in closer to her. "But it's not like I'm some kind of addict or anything."

She grinned, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "So, you do watch it." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. "I was talking with some girlfriends from my dev psych class and one of the girls was saying…how she and her boyfriend made a sex tape.”

"A sex tape?" His eyebrows shoot up, a mix of surprise and something else crossing his face. "And exactly why are you telling me this?" He moves one hand to trace patterns on her back.

She bites her lip again teasingly, shrugging her shoulders slightly. "Just curious what you'd think." She shifts subtly on his lap, pressing herself closer. "Would you ever consider making one…with me?"

Levi's breath catches as she presses closer, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. "You're asking if I'd make a sex tape with my girlfriend?" He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“Mhm.” She nodded slightly, looking up at him with innocent eyes. “I mean, it sounds pretty fun. And you could jerk off to it later when I’m not around.” She teased him playfully.

"For fuck's sake..." He runs a hand through his hair, trying to maintain his composure. "First porn, now sex tapes..." He shakes his head but doesn't move her off his lap. "And who the hell said I jerk off when you're not around?"

She gives him an amused smirk, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his shoulder. "Oh please, every guy does it." Her eyes glimmer mischievously as she leans in closer, her lips nearly brushing his ear. "Unless you're some kind of saint, which I highly doubt."

"And what makes you think I'm not?" He counters, his voice low and husky in her ear. "Maybe I don't need to jerk off because my girlfriend already puts out every night." He wraps an arm around her waist possessively.

She giggles softly, nipping at his earlobe playfully. "Keep dreaming, old man." She pats his chest mockingly. "But seriously, would you do it? Make a tape with me?" She asks again, her tone softer this time.

Levi's expression turns thoughtful, his thumb gently stroking her side as he considers her question. "Honestly?" He pauses, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "If you really wanted to, I wouldn't say no."

She grins widely, clearly pleased with his response. "I knew you'd say that." She leans back slightly to look into his eyes, her own sparkling with excitement. "So, hypothetically speaking, what kind of things would you want to do in this sex tape?"

"Hypothetically?" He raises an eyebrow, his mind already racing with possibilities. "I'd want to try every position we've ever done, plus a few we haven't. I'd want to film it in every room of the house."

"I'd want to see you on your knees, sucking my cock. I'd want to watch you bend over and take it from behind. I'd want to film every dirty thing we've ever done."

She bites her lip, blushing at his dirty words. "You're so bad..." She whispers, squirming slightly in his lap. "But I like it." She leans in and kisses him hungrily, her hands running through his hair. "Let's do it."

Levi groans into her mouth, his hands gripping her hips as he pulls her down onto his lap. "Now?" He asks, his voice hoarse with desire. "Are you saying you want to make a fucking tape right now?"

She nods eagerly, her eyes gleaming with lust. "Yeah, why not? We're both horny and you just gave me all these dirty ideas." She grinds against him slightly, feeling his hardness through his pants. "Do you have an old timey camera? like the one not on your phones?”

"In the drawer by the bed." He manages to grind out, watching her grind on him slowly. "You serious about this? Making a damn porno?" He laughs softly, already hard as a rock from the idea.

"Dead fucking serious." She grins wickedly, lifting herself off him reluctantly. "Be right back." She saunters off towards the bedroom, her hips swaying exaggeratedly. Moments later, she returns with the vintage camera, checking it over. "How do I work this thing?"

Levi chuckles, standing up and taking the camera from her hands. "It's portable consumer, honey." He loads a cartridge into it, his movements practiced. "Point and shoot, basically. Nothing fancy."

She watches him with a playful smile, taking the camera back from him. "So, where do you want to start?" She asks, her voice soft as she sets the camera on a nearby table, pointing it towards the couch.

"Let's start with me watching you take your clothes off." He says, his voice low as he sits back down on the couch, spreading his legs slightly. "Come here, in front of the camera." He pats his lap. "Slowly."

“Wait! You—need to get the camera ready. And I need to go make sure I look pretty first.” She strictly told him.

"Y/N, don’t piss me off or turn me off." He scoffed, picking up the camera and adjusting the settings.

She sticks her tongue out at him playfully, before disappearing upstairs. After a few minutes, she comes back down, now wearing a cute laced see through baby doll top and matching panties that hugs her curves perfectly. She poses in front of the camera, twirling around.

"Damn." He mutters softly, watching her through the camera lens. She's way too sexy for her own good. He captures her twirling, laughing, touching her hair softly. He zooms in on her body, her breasts practically spilling out of the top.

"Those fucking panties..." He growls, adjusting himself through his pants. "Come closer to the camera. Let me see everything." His tone became more dominant. The way the light catches her body through the see-through material making his mouth water. "Touch yourself."

She smiled softly , moving her fingers softly as she slowly spreads her legs slightly wider apart. She slowly slides her hands up her bare thighs softly, pushing her breasts together with her arms. She bites her lip softly, pushing her hips forward slightly as if she's taking a dick slowly.

"Jesus fuck." He mumbles, zooming in closer. The way she's moving, the way she's teasing - she knows exactly what she's doing to drive him crazy. He clicks a few photos, then lowers the camera slightly to watch her fingers moving on her thighs. "Keep going."

She slowly slides her fingers up her stomach, pushing her breasts together again. She spreads her legs wider, showing off her wet panties through the see-through material. She starts to touch herself through the panties, circling her clit softly.

Levi's breath hitched, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. "Fucking hell, Y/N." He adjusts the camera to get a better angle, capturing every detail of her fingers moving against her clit. "Pull your panties aside. Let me see that pretty pussy."

She slowly slides her fingers under the side of her panties, pulling it aside to reveal her bare pussy. She spreads herself open, showing off her wet folds. She slowly slides one finger in her hole, moving it in and out slowly.

Levi's grip on the camera tightens, his knuckles turning white. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest as he watches her finger fuck herself. "Add another finger," he commands, his voice rough with desire. "I want to see that pussy stretch around them."

She slowly adds a second finger, stretching herself open. She curves her fingers up, hitting her g-spot and making her gasp softly. She starts to move her fingers faster, her hips bucking slightly. "Oh fuck... Levi." She bites her lip, looking into the camera lens.

"God damn it." He mutters, placing the camera down. He sees her fingers moving fast, making wet noises. He unbuttons his shirt quickly, throwing it off. He drops to his knees in front of her, spreading her legs wider.

"That's enough. Let me take over," he said, grabbing her wrist gently to stop her fingers. He moves her hand away and replaces it with his own, sliding two fingers deep inside her. "You're so fucking wet, baby," he murmurs, pumping his fingers in and out.

She moans softly, spreading her legs wider for him. He adds another finger, stretching her small hole. He watches his fingers disappear inside her tight pussy, spreading her wetness all over. He pulls his fingers out slowly, only to push them back in hard, making her yelp softly.

"Levi!" She cries out, her back arching. He curls his fingers inside her, hitting her g-spot over and over again. His thumb circles her clit, applying pressure. "I'm gonna..." She trails off, her walls tightening around his fingers. "I'm gonna cum!"

"Cum for me, baby," he groaned, his fingers moving faster and harder. He watches her face contort with pleasure, her eyes rolling back slightly as she chases her orgasm. He presses his thumb firmly against her clit, rubbing it in tight circles to push her over the edge.

"Fuck!" She screams as she cums, her pussy clamping down hard on his fingers. He feels her juices gushing out, soaking his hand and the cushions beneath her. He keeps fingering her through her orgasm, drawing out every last tremor until she's a boneless mess.

"Levi... I-I can't... It's too sensitive," she whimpers, her hips squirming to get away from his fingers. But he doesn't stop, instead, he slows down his movements, gentling his touch to help her come down from her high.

He keeps his fingers buried inside her, gently massaging her inner walls as she tries to squirm away. "Shh, shh," he murmurs, his other hand coming up to hold her hip down. "You can take more, baby. You can take my whole hand if I say so,"

He slowly adds a fourth finger, stretching her even more. She whines softly, her face scrunched up in discomfort and pleasure. He watches his hand disappear inside her tiny pussy, his thumb still circling her clit gently. "Look at you taking all four fingers,"

He grabs the camera with his free hand, turning it to face her. "Look at yourself, baby. See how well you're taking my hand?" He angles the camera to capture the obscene sight of his hand buried inside her, her pussy stretched wide around his fingers.

He zooms the camera in, getting a close-up of his hand inside her. He spreads his fingers slightly, making her whine and try to pull her hips away. "Stay still," he muttered, his thumb finding her g-spot again.

He presses his thumb hard against her g-spot, rubbing insistently as she squirms. The camera captures her face twisting with pleasure and overstimulation, her lips parted in breathless moans. "That's it, take it like a good girl," he sighed, his voice low and husky.

He feels her pussy clench tightly around his fingers again, another mini orgasm rocking through her body. She cries out, trembling on his hand. "Fuck, look at that," he growls, zooming the camera in closer to catch every twitch and flutter of her abused cunt.

He spreads his fingers wider again, stretching her small hole. He watches the camera screen as her pussy lips stretch thin around his fingers. He adds a small thrust with his hand, making her breasts bounce slightly. He captures this on camera, muttering. "Fucking hell, look at those tits bouncing while I fuck her pussy with my whole hand," he groans, his own arousal evident in his voice. He keeps the camera focused on her face and chest, capturing the beautiful sight of her being completely dominated by his huge hand.

She can feel his entire hand buried inside her, stretching her wider than she’s ever been stretched by him before. His thumb massages Y/N’s g-spot insistently as his other four fingers spread inside her, threatening to tear her open. She whine and beg for him to stop, but the camera keeps rolling.

He suddenly stops moving his hand, leaving it buried deep inside her. She whimpers at the sudden stillness, her pussy clenching around his unmoving fingers. He keeps the camera focused on her face as he slowly withdraws his hand from her soaked, swollen pussy.

She throws her head back as his fingers slowly pull out, her pussy making suction noises around his withdrawal. He catches this on camera, making a sharp breath as he realizes how obscene this looks.

Y/N gasps for air as Levi's hand finally slips out of her. Her pussy gapes open, drip with her juices. She feels so empty without him inside her. She looks up at him with a pleading expression, her lips parted and her eyes glassy.

He watches her through the camera, seeing the desperate look in her eyes. He smirks, his hand still glistening with her arousal. "You want more, don't you?" he asks, his voice low and commanding. The camera pans down to capture her swollen, dripping pussy.

He chuckles darkly, bringing the camera closer to her leaking cunt. "Look how fucking desperate this pretty little pussy is," he murmurs, using his slick fingers to lightly tap her clit, making her jolt and moan sharply.

Y/N's voice comes out as a whimper "P-please... Levi, please..." She reaches down, trying to pull his hand back between her legs, needing more of his touch "I need you inside me again... please..."

He watches her try to push his hand back between her thighs on camera. Her small hands look desperate as they try to capture his huge one. He swallows hard as she spreads her legs wider, giving the camera a clear view of her needy, wet pussy. "Baby…”

Y/N looks up at Levi with wide, pleading eyes, her chest heaving. "Levi, fuck me..." she begs breathlessly, arching her back to present her dripping slit to him invitingly. "I'm so empty without your cock filling me up..."

He groans at her words, his eyes darkening with desire as he quickly sets the camera on the table, making sure it captures the entire couch. He quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls down his pants, his large, hard cock springing free. "You want this?"

Y/N bites her lip, her eyes fixed on his thick cock as he strokes it slowly. "Yes... God, yes... I want your big dick inside me... Fuck me hard, Levi..." She spreads her legs wider, showing off her glistening pussy to the camera.

He grunts, grabbing her legs and throwing them over his shoulders as he kneels between her thighs. He rubs his thick head against her swollen folds, teasing her before slamming inside her in one brutal thrust, making her scream and the camera shake.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight around my dick," he groans, pulling out and slamming back in, his thick length hitting her sensitive spots and making her whimper and squirm. The camera captures her bouncing tits and his thick, veiny dick spreading her open.

Y/N throws her head back, moaning loudly as Levi's massive cock stretches her impossibly wide with each relentless thrust. Her fingers claw at his back, desperate for leverage against his dominating pace. "Oh fuck, oh fuck yes! Harder, fuck me harder!"

"Jesus fuck," he groans, reaching out to grab the camera and bring it closer, zooming in on where his huge dick disappears inside her tiny pussy. "Look at how fucking small you look around my big dick," he growls, fucking her harder.

He turns the camera to her face, capturing her open-mouthed moans and the tears streaming down her cheeks from the intense pleasure and size of his cock. "You love taking this dick, don't you? You're such a good girl.”

He pulls the camera back to show his cock slamming in and out of her, her pussy lips stretched obscenely around his thick shaft. "Look at this fucking sight," he grunts, using one hand to spread her pussy lips wider for the camera.

Levi holds the camera steady, angling it to showcase her pussy being brutally fucked. He zooms in close, giving a perfect view of his enormous cock violently spreading her tight cunt. "Fuck, you're squeezing my dick so hard. Taking it so well."

Y/N's eyes roll back as she feels Levi's thick cock hitting her deepest spots. She looks at the camera, her face flushed and contorted with pleasure. "I... I'm so full... your dick is stretching me so much... it's too big... but I love it!"

He chuckles darkly, his pace turning brutal as he fucks her like an animal, the camera shaking with each powerful thrust. "You can take it, can't you? Fuck, you were made for me."

He suddenly pulls out, making Y/N whimper at the sudden emptiness. He flips her onto her hands and knees, spreading her legs wide and slamming back inside her from behind. The camera captures his powerful body pounding into her tiny frame, his balls slapping against her clit with each thrust.

Levi reaches around to rub Y/N's swollen clit furiously as he continues his relentless assault on her pussy from behind. His other hand grips the camera, angling it perfectly to showcase her bouncing ass and his monstrous cock pistoning in and out.

Y/N's back arches as she reaches her peak, her pussy clamping down on Levi's cock as she screams out his name. Levi's grip on the camera tightens as he feels her orgasm trigger his own, his hot release filling her to the brim.

He keeps the camera rolling as he pulls out slowly, their mixed juices dripping out of Y/N's well-used hole. He spreads her ass cheeks apart, letting the camera capture the lewd sight of his cum overflowing from her red, puffy pussy. "Look at that... you're a mess."

Levi sets the camera down on the nightstand, his breath still ragged as he sits on couch, panting. “I love popping the birth control.” She huffed and got up, stretching. She sat up and grabbed the camera, facing it toward them. Y/N smiled at the lens and fixed her hair, turning her head toward Levi. “You should say hi to your camera.”

Levi looked up at the camera, his muscular chest heaving as he caught his breath. He scoffed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Hey," he muttered gruffly, his deep voice filling the room.

Y/N giggled as she recorded him, zooming in on his chiseled features and disheveled appearance. "You look so grumpy," she teased, knowing he hated being on camera without his knowledge.

"Goddammit..." he scoffed, reaching for the camera but missing as Y/N playfully moves it out of reach. "Give me that camera before I bend you over my knee." Despite his words, his eyes flash with amusement, betraying his frustration.

Y/N laughed, her face lighting up as she kept the camera trained on him. "No way, I'm having too much fun. I love to look back and see your grumpy face." She pouted exaggeratedly, batting her eyelashes. "Pleaaase? Just a few more seconds?"

He unknowingly flexes his muscles as she records him, his abs tightening. "Damn it, woman..." He smirks without meaning to, watching her laugh and play with her hair. "Five more seconds, then." He lifts his arms slightly, showing off his V-line unconsciously.

She zooms in closer, capturing his perfect eight-pack and sharp V-line. "Holy abs..." She mutters softly, then realizes the camera picked up her words. She laughs louder, covering her face with one hand. Levi chuckles quietly, watching her unguarded laughter fill the room.

The timer goes off, and Levi suddenly lunges for the camera, successfully snatching it from Y/N's hands. He turns it off, his face inches from hers as he holds the camera hostage. "Your five seconds are up,"

Levi's voice softens slightly as he looks into her eyes, still holding the camera. "You know what? You're a mess, and I'm sure you're sticky and uncomfortable." He says. "Why don't you go take a shower?"

Y/N rolls her eyes playfully but obeys, stretching her arms above her head. "You're right," she admits, getting up from the couch. "I'm all sticky and gross." She sticks her tongue out at him, making him scoff softly.

Levi shakes his head with a smirk as he watches her saunter towards the bathroom. Deciding he wants to join her, he tosses the camera aside carelessly, not bothering to turn it off. He follows her, pausing in the doorway to admire her lithe figure as she turns on the shower.

"You know what?" He calls out. "I think I might be sticky too." He steps into the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The shower starts running, steam already filling the room.

Y/N looks back over her shoulder, a smirk on her lips as she hears the shower start. "Oh? You're going to join me, old man?" She teases, stepping under the warm spray. The water cascades over her curves, making her skin glisten.

Levi steps into the shower behind her, his eyes traveling appreciatively over her slick body. "Old man? Please," he scoffs, reaching out to tug playfully at her wet hair. "I can still outlast you in the bedroom, Y/N."

His strong hands grip her waist as he presses against her back, his chest pressing against her shoulder blades. His voice drops to a husky whisper. "In fact, I seem to remember making you beg earlier. You remember that, right?" He reaches around to turn the water temperature slightly warmer.

Y/N leans back into Levi's strong embrace, a shiver of pleasure running through her as the warm water cascades over them. She tilts her head to look up at the ceiling. “I want ice cubes after.”

Levi chuckles low in his throat, the vibrations rumbling against her back. "You always want something after," he murmurs, his hands slowly drifting upwards from her waist to cup her breasts. "Fine, ice cubes it is. But first, I think we need to get you really, really clean."

Later. Y/N sat criss cross on Levi’s big bed with him as Levi had on his sweats and grey compression shirt to bed. She ate ice cubes out of a cup as Levi worked on transferring their sextape off the camera to their phones, using his laptop with his glssses. “Your Albert Eienstein glasses are sexy.” She teased him and threw an ice cube at him.

Levi catches the ice cube mid-air, a scowl tugging at his lips as he adjusts his glasses. "Shut up and eat your ice cubes before you get brain freeze," he replies, his focus back on the laptop screen.

He transfers the final clip, saving it to both their phones with a few expert clicks. "There," he says, closing the laptop and taking his glasses off, putting them down on the night stand."All done." He turns to look at her, his usual stoic expression on his face.

"Now stop having brain freeze over ice cubes and get under the covers." He reaches over to pat her head gently then moves to turn off the bedside lamp. The dim moonlight casting shadows on his sharp features. "And... don't say my glasses are sexy again." He adds in a murmur.

"Too late," Y/N giggles softly, throwing another ice cube at him. "They really are hot. You should wear them more often." She scoops another ice cube into her mouth, pulling her knees up to her chest. "You know you're really sexy when you do serious stuff like this?"

Levi rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You're ridiculous," he says, catching the ice cube and tossing it back into the cup. "And I wear these glasses when I need to see clearly, not to look'sexy.'"

"Which is all the time," Y/N argues, grinning. "So you're always looking hot. Poor me, dating my sexy handsom professor." She sighs dramatically, throwing another ice cube at him.

Levi ducks the ice cube, his expression stern. "Enough with the ice cubes," he says firmly, but there's a spark of amusement in his eyes. "And I'm not your professor, I'm your boyfriend." He reaches over and snatches the cup of ice cubes away from her.

"And you're acting like a child," he adds, setting the cup down on the nightstand out of her reach. He turns back to her, his arms crossing over his chest as he leans against the headboard. "Now come here and act like my adult girlfriend instead."

Y/N pouts playfully but crawls towards him across the bed, sliding into his lap. "Fine, fine. No more ice cubes." She wraps her arms around his neck, pressing a quick kiss to his jawline. "But you're still incredibly hot in those glasses."

"Stop."

Y/N smiled at her older boyfriend, though she wasn’t taking his class, he was still technically her professor in other cases.

"I swear, if you don't stop calling me 'hot' in these glasses one more time..." he warns, his hands finding her waist to keep her in place. His face is serious, but the way he's trying not to smile gives him away. "What am I going to do with you?"

There was a little silence between them before he spoke again.

"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," he says, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he starts to tickle her sides suddenly. "I'm going to make you stop talking about my glasses being sexy by distracting you with something else entirely."

Y/N dissolves into giggles as Levi's fingers find her most ticklish spots, squirming in his lap. "Stop, stop!" she laughs breathlessly, trying to wriggle away. But Levi holds her firmly, his lips twitching with amusement as he continues his assault.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop," Levi says, finally releasing her from his tickle attack. He catches her as she collapses against his chest, still giggling softly. "But it's getting late. Time for bed, woman."

He shifts her gently off his lap and stands up, stretching briefly before turning to face her with a stern expression. "I mean it.”

"Mhm," Y/N replies unconvincingly, grabbing another ice cube from the melted pile on the nightstand. She sucks on it loudly, avoiding his warning look. "Just one more ice cube." She mumbles around it.

"That was not 'just one more ice cube' and those are melting faster than you can eat them," he says firmly, taking a few steps closer to her. "Did you hear me say it's time for bed? Or are you going to force me to actually be serious?"

Y/N rolled her eyes and continued to suck on the ice cube. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be a grown woman, you're acting like a child who refuses to go to bed." He crosses his arms, his expression stern but slightly amused. "Now put that ice cube down before you give yourself brain freeze."

Y/N sticks her tongue out at him playfully, popping the ice cube into her mouth one last time before swallowing dramatically. "There, finished. Happy now?" She crawls into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin with a exaggerated yawn. "Night night, handsome professor."

He rolls his eyes, but can't suppress a small smirk at her childish antics. He sits on the edge of the bed, pulling the blanket back down from her chin. "Not quite yet," he says, his tone hinting at an unspoken consequence for her stalling tactics.

"Since you've insisted on acting like a brat tonight," Levi begins, his voice low and teasing as he leans in closer. "Maybe I should treat you like one." Quickly, he grabs a pillow and lightly bonks her on the head with it. "Say goodnight properly this time."

Y/N yelps surprised, throwing the pillow back at him. "Jerk." she laughs softly, pulling the blanket back up.

"Mhm," Levi hums softly, watching as she burrows deeper into the blanket. Then suddenly, an arm snakes out from under the covers, wrapping around his neck and pulling him down. He laughs softly as soft lips press quickly against his jawbone, then his cheekbone, then finally his lips.

He turns his head to capture her lips properly, kissing her back briefly before pulling away. "Better." he murmurs, tapping her nose lightly.

"Mmm," Y/N mumbles against his chest as she nuzzles in closer, her arms wrapping around his waist possessively. "You promise you're not going to sit there and read again?" she asks, her voice muffled.

He chuckles softly, running his fingers through her hair. "I promise," he assures her, settling back against the headboard with her in his arms. "Now go to sleep before I change my mind and start lecturing you about proper bedtime habits."

Y/N smiles sleepily against his chest, her eyes already drifting shut. "Goodnight, Professor," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. She shifts slightly in his arms, getting comfortable before falling silent and still. Within minutes, her breathing evens out, indicating she's fast asleep.

He smiles softly at her sleeping form, carefully adjusting the blanket around her shoulders. "Good night, Y/N." he whispers, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before turning off the bedside lamp. The room falls into darkness, but his arms remain securely around her as he settles down to sleep.

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